Crash
by ALEO
Summary: Don discovers that the consequences of helping a car crash victim can be as painful and dangerous as they are unexpected. Written for Clue Challenge #2, August 2009, at hurt don on LiveJournal. Prompts: Who? Don. What? car. Where? road. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Numb3rs: Crash**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_**Spoilers:**__ Fifth Man (vaguely), mention of my fic Crosshairs (again, blink and you'll miss it so no need to read it first)._

_**A/N:**__ Written for Clue Challenge #2, August 2009, at hurt_don on LiveJournal. Prompts: __**Who?**__ – Don. __**What? **__– car. __**Where?**__ - road._

Don discovers that the consequences of helping a car crash victim can be as painful and dangerous as they are unexpected.

CHAPTER ONE

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FBI Special Agent Don Eppes had stopped for fuel and was a couple of hours past the northern outskirts of LA before Sinclair managed to spare the time to call him with an update.

Having heard all the new details he forgave his agent for the delay, it was a bad one as he'd feared. Three dead, a young family, tortured before being executed, the second such set of murders in two weeks. Don just knew that the moment this hit the media they would be screaming 'serial killer' over the airwaves, just what they could do without no matter how appropriate it was starting to look. For the moment they had a brief respite, the new site too far off the beaten track for the media to have noted the increased LEO activity. Well acquainted with the uncanny noses of the Los Angeles media he expected that wouldn't last long despite the freezing night air and the late hour.

"Alright, David. I got it." Don would wait until he'd seen the scene for himself before kicking this upstairs and notifying the ADIC and the rest of the circus. He checked the screen on his GPS navigator. "I'm about fifteen minutes out."

The glance at the navigator also showed him that he needed to take the next intersecting road that ran off to the right. Slowing he prepared to take the turn as he heard the reply.

"_See you soon, Boss." _

A slight wry grin crossed his face at the tone of relief he heard in David Sinclair's voice at calling him 'boss'. David wasn't running point on this one, much as he had aspirations to be a SAC one day there were times when it was better to be told what to do rather than having to make all the decisions. This was one of those cases, it was going to be big and the heat that was going to come down all too quickly was something none of them needed. Unfortunately Don was well accustomed to heat and didn't think any less of David for his relief at escaping it this time.

Taking the right turn he saw headlights approaching from a short distance ahead. It was the first car he'd seen in quite a while. Suddenly the lights swerved to his left and off the road. There was a flash and one of the lights died abruptly. He was on the scene almost before he'd understood what he'd just witnessed. His own headlights which he'd flicked back up onto high beam illuminated the already settling dust that always seemed to accompany a crash allowing him to see what he already expected. The other car had slammed head-on into a tree just off the side of the road.

"David!" Don called quickly, hoping that Sinclair hadn't yet hung up.

"_Don?"_

"Get EMTs to my location," He started, concentrating on the GPS screen for a moment to get the name of the road as he braked heavily. "Single vehicle TA, unknown injuries. Looks bad."

"_Got it. I'll get onto the sheriff here."_ David acknowledged before breaking the connection.

The SUV finally came to a stop, slewed partly sideways on the roadway allowing the high beams to fully light up the wreck. It had been a white sedan, the make and model he couldn't recognise instantly from the mangled remains. The passenger side door was already open and the seat was vacant. A quick glance around failed to find a trace of any other victims, it had probably sprung open during the impact; the driver was still behind the wheel, his door also open.

Don grabbed his phone, automatically sliding it into the holder on his belt as he got out and zipped up his jacket against the cold. Heading over to the wreckage he was in time to see the driver fall out and start to climb shakily to his knees.

"Hey, man. Take it easy." Don started soothingly, moving in to take the man's shoulders in an effort to keep him down. Lying down on the ground was the safest spot for the man until his injuries could be assessed. "You've just been in a crash. I've called for help."

The man struggled against his hold for a moment before giving a groan and going suddenly limp. Don tightened his grip and tried to ease the driver back to prevent any further injuries.

The sudden blinding pain to the back of his head was the last thing he expected. Pitching forwards he retained just enough of his faculties to note that the driver was shoving him to the side to prevent him landing on the man. He didn't have enough control over his body to do anything to save himself, ending up facedown on the grassy verge. Half stunned he lay there inhaling the smell of dry grass and dust as voices sounded behind him.

"Took you long enough." The first voice complained around a grunt.

"You're welcome." The second voice replied sarcastically.

"But you didn't have to hit him so hard."

"Too bad. We're taking his truck. He might not be too agreeable on the idea."

"I guess."

During the pause that followed Don's full senses finally returned and he was able to move. In a quick movement he lurched to his feet, stumbling a little as he realised he wasn't quite as recovered as he'd thought. Reaching for the zipper of his jacket he turned to keep the men in sight but it was too late, they were already moving and would be on him before he could get anywhere near his gun. Abandoning the attempt he brought his fists up and landed a good hit on the closest man.

The first reeled back but before he could set himself to swing again the second man was already throwing his own fist. The blow caught him on the cheekbone upsetting his already delicate balance causing him to stagger back. He took another pace back in an effort to increase the space between them recognising that his reactions were slowed. The second man wasn't so keen on that idea, stepping forward and swinging again as he closed in. Blocking the blow with his left forearm Don got another strike in, reaching the point of the man's chin. Adjusting his shaky balance he raised his left leg and struck out, more a push than a kick, determined to open up a gap. That worked but he'd lost track of the first man. A movement in his peripheral vision had him turning in time to see the fist an instant before it hit the side of his left eye, snapping his head back. Blindly he struck out and felt it connect before his world closed in, the other man had recovered and joined in the assault and Don was unable to block many of the flying fists. The next few seconds stretched for what felt like minutes as blows too numerous to count landed on his head, his shoulders and his stomach. Gasping for lost breath he lashed out a few times but had more misses than hits. Now it was Don that reeled backwards, going down before somehow making it back up as the first man reached him. Swinging blindly once again he could have cheered as his fist connected and he sensed the other go down.

The need for space drove him, the voices of his lecturers from Quantico along with his own reminding him that space was safety. It was enough to make his feet move as he fought to create that distance. The withdrawal wasn't running away but would give him a desperately needed moment's respite to regroup and try again for his gun. The weapon his only hope as he was in serious trouble from the two men's concerted attack. A few steps later he knew he'd been too slow as he was slammed into from behind in a full tackle. Hitting the ground with the bodyweight of the man on him the air was driven from his lungs. Struggling to draw a breath he barely got his hands under his shoulders and started to push before the first of a flurry of blows to his side and kidneys had him arching his back in pain. Trying to buck the man off his back he saw darkness at the edges of his oxygen starved vision. His efforts became more desperate when suddenly the punches stopped. Before he could feel relief hands grabbed at his head and slammed his face into the hard ground.

He survived the first impact but there was nothing he could do to prevent the second which drove him away.

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"Damn." Troy climbed off the unconscious man's back, shoving the head one last time into the ground as he stepped away. Breathing heavily he turned to his partner and started to help him up but was waved off.

"Just give me a minute." Mitch shook his head in an effort to clear it from the man's last punch and glanced over at the still form. He owed the man some respect. "He's good."

"Yeah." Troy agreed as he delivered a quick kick to the man's hip, he was a far better fighter than he would have expected given the expensive jacket and dress jeans. He should have cracked him over the head much harder the first time. Shaking out his right hand he turned away, they had places they needed to be, namely away from here real quick. The cops would have recovered by now and be hunting them. "Come on."

"Yeah, yeah." Managing to sit up Mitch stared up at his friend. "Give me a minute."

"We don't have a minute."

"Alright, alright. Just give me a sec will ya?"

Troy let out a sound of frustration as he turned away. "I'm gonna check out his ride and see if he left the keys in it."

Mitch waved a hand in acknowledgement but Troy was already gone. It was all well and good for Troy to be in a hurry but Mitch had been the one driving the stolen car and even with the airbag he'd taken a decent hit to the chest and face when they'd hit the tree. Nothing was broken but he'd really not been up for the brawl they'd just been in. He groaned but Troy was right, they had to move. He made it up and turned at the other man's call, squinting against the headlights over at the truck that was now idling. Obviously Troy had found the keys in the ignition as he'd hoped.

"Dump him in the trees. It should give us a head start if they think we're on foot." Troy shouted his order. He was still standing beside the opened driver's door but turned and started to climb in as Mitch moved towards the unconscious figure.

Somewhat painfully grabbing at the man's ankles Mitch pulled and started dragging him away from the edge of the road towards the clump of small trees just past the much larger tree they'd hit. His grip slipped causing him to fall back, landing hard. Cursing at his luck he made it up and started to get a new hold on the man when something caught his eye. Stepping closer he felt a rising excitement as he recognised what he was seeing. In dragging the man the tightly zipped jacket had ridden up a little exposing the unmistakeable muzzle of a gun on the man's hip. Pulling at the jacket he realised now why the man had gone for his zipper earlier, the jacket too tight over the weapon. Jerking the zipper down and brushing one half of the jacket aside he fully exposed the weapon, a semi-automatic pistol in a basic holster.

He pulled the gun free and laid a quick kiss on the side of the slide. He would never have dreamed of getting a new gun this quickly after the cops back up the road had taken theirs.

A sudden swearing diverted Mitch's attention away from his new toy before he could begin to wonder just why the man was carrying a piece. Looking back up at the SUV he called out, "What?"

The swearing continued for a few more seconds culminating in Troy jumping back out and running over. "He's a cop or something."

"What?" Mitch repeated automatically, before looking from the gun in his hand to the still unconscious form at his feet. He glanced back up in time to see Troy staring at the gun. "I found this on him."

Troy swore again before dropping to his knees and roughly going through the man's pockets. The jacket slid aside in the process exposing a small metal shield clipped to the man's belt but he didn't recognise the design. It didn't look like a police badge so he started to figure the man was security. The wallet he flipped open to find a California driver's licence with a serious face peering out at him. It didn't explain the badge or gun. Looking further he saw a few notes so he slipped the wallet into his own pocket to raid for cash later. He continued searching the man until he found a slim leather folder. Flipping it open the swearing resumed in increased in volume. A closer look at the metal badge confirmed it. The trouble they were in just got a whole lot deeper.

For the third time Mitch asked the same question, "What?"

"He's not just a cop, he's a fed." Troy stood, turning the ID in his hand so his partner could see for himself. "FBI."

"What are we gonna do?"

Troy went still as he gave that some thought, staring at the helpless man at their feet. This was not a situation he'd expected to find himself in. He had a long general dislike for law enforcement and now for the first time in his life he had a cop at his mercy. More importantly, he had time to do something about it unlike the situation they'd been in with the two sheriff's deputies earlier. Then they'd been in a hurry to get away, not even taking the time to get their weapons, just a set of car keys. His thoughts skittered off sideways as an adolescent fantasy suddenly took over causing a slow smile to cross his face. Raising his head he looked his partner in the eye. "We get rid of him."

Misunderstanding the point Mitch started to shove the gun into his belt so he could have both hands free to continue dragging the man over to the trees when Troy stopped him.

"We shoot him." Troy clarified, indicating the fed's own gun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Numb3rs: Crash**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

**CHAPTER TWO**

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Backing away slightly Mitch shook his head. "No way, man."

"Give me the gun then."

For the first time since they'd been together Mitch denied Troy something. "No."

"Then you do it." It didn't really matter too much to Troy who did it; it was normally Mitch's job to control their targets anyway. If the fed ended up dead he could make do with that.

"Why? He's out cold and we've got his gun. No way he's able to stop us."

"They find his body here they'll be too busy to come after us, at least not until we've had a chance to get away."

"Are you even listening to yourself?" Mitch demanded, relieved that he was the one with the gun, not Troy or it would be all over already. He swallowed before he continued, not used to this role reversal as Troy was normally the one in charge. "We kill him and they will stop at nothing to find us and when they do it's the death penalty for sure."

"They're not gonna catch us." Troy insisted but his thoughts were already starting to cool, the desire to shoot the fed fading as his partner's words started to sink in. The threat of the death penalty could do that. They'd never killed before and he struggled to separate the tempting fantasy from reality. Staring at the unconscious body made that difficult so he looked back as Mitch continued his strong objection.

"Yeah? Well, they just caught us. It was only dumb luck we even got away that time. We kill him and they catch us, what then? Death penalty, that's what." Mitch insisted trying to hammer the point home. Knocking over gas stations and convenience stores was one thing, even getting physical with the law when some idiot back at the station failed to lock a door properly was something he could handle but actually killing a cop? That he hadn't signed up for. He knew how Troy felt about cops but never thought he'd want to go this far.

Mitch was totally right. Troy had to let the fantasy go, it had been stupid and they'd been fortunate that Mitch had been the one to find the gun. He was about to tell his partner to dump the fed in the trees like he'd originally planned when there was the unwelcome sound of a siren in the distance. They both froze for a moment and heard the siren get louder. They were out of time.

Automatically Mitch fell back into his usual, comfortable role. "What'll we do?"

Another moment of indecision passed before Troy came up with a plan. Things had just changed again, glancing back down at the unconscious man he realised that the fed could be useful. The cops weren't going to catch them again tonight. He may even get a little of his own back in the process. "Grab him. We'll take him with us."

The sudden about face surprised the other man. "But-"

"Grab his feet, quick. Let's go!"

With no time to argue Mitch shoved the gun away and grabbed both of the fed's ankles, lifting just as Troy started to drag the man towards his SUV. Grunting with effort they got him over to the black truck and slung him onto the back seat just as the flashing lights of the approaching emergency vehicle swung into view.

Slamming the door shut against the man's feet they scrambled into the front seats. Troy floored the gas just as the approaching headlights turned into an ambulance, not the cops as they'd feared. Leaving the SUV's lights on high beam to blind the EMT, Troy drove head-on towards the ambulance forcing it to swerve out of the way. He watched in satisfaction via the side mirror as the ambulance shot off the road and into the brush. With any luck the EMT would have been too busy trying to save his own skin to get a good look at the vehicle that had just run him off the road. Keeping his foot flat down he allowed the surprisingly powerful SUV to continue to accelerate, they needed to put some distance between themselves and the wreck as quickly as they could.

After a couple of minutes he reluctantly backed off easing them back to the speed limit to avoid drawing attention to themselves. The cops would be everywhere after their escape an hour or so ago, and would now also be looking for a speeding car as soon as the EMT called in what had just happened. They'd slowed just in time, taking the next turn they came face to face with a deputy's cruiser. Obeying the law for the first time in like forever he pulled off to give way as the approaching car's emergency lights were on. Slowing almost to a stop they watched as it continued past them, before taking the turn they'd just made to head towards the crash site.

"That was close." Mitch finally commented as they pulled back onto the road and accelerated away.

"Yeah. But they're gonna figure it out soon enough. He must have called the EMTs when he found us." Troy's voice had regained its usual confident composure after having some more time to think things through. "That's why we brought him along. They stop us we got him to get us away." Glancing up in the rear view mirror he was reassured that the man in question was still out cold, lying limp on the back seat just as they'd left him. They would keep the fed until they didn't need him any more before getting rid of him, alive now that he'd rejected the insanity of his earlier fantasy. They had enough trouble hanging over them, all of which didn't really bother him but the thought of death row was another story.

"Hey, yeah." Mitch said liking the idea. Threatening the fed was a whole world away from killing him. They'd had a hostage once before, some kid clerk and they'd gotten away clean. That had ended with them dumping the terrified kid at the side of the road somewhere. They could do the same with the fed once they were a few miles away.

Spotting a sign that pointed towards what passed for a highway in these parts, Troy took the next turn and headed up the ramp realising that in their earlier escape they'd been going the wrong way. Towards LA was somewhere they didn't want to go, far too many cops, so heading towards the next of a chain of smaller towns was a far better option in his book. Coming across the fed was staring to look like a fortunate event. This late at night there was no traffic so even without speeding they were going to make good time.

A sudden shrill noise caused both men to jump.

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It was always the way, his cell would rouse him every time.

That was his first thought, the next was to wonder why he had such a pounding headache and why he was so stiff and unable to move at first. Finally his arms responded and he couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips at the sudden pain the movement seemed to cause. Everything hurt. Another groan as he shifted more carefully this time reaching for the phone but it was already too late, the ringing had stopped.

Abruptly he froze as perfect memory returned. He'd been on the phone to David when he'd come across an accident. What happened after that was only too clear, he'd been jumped and attacked by the two men from the wrecked car. Familiar sound and motion asserted itself upon his senses and he recognised that he was in a vehicle moving at a steady pace down a smooth road surface.

It took some doing but he managed to get his eyes open although his left wouldn't open as far and felt puffy. In the first second he confirmed he was in a vehicle, his own, and that the two men that attacked him were with him. The vehicle was dark but the wash of light from the dashboard along with some backwash from the headlights enabled him to see clearly enough to make that identification. He could certainly see well enough to identify the man peering at him over the top of a Glock pistol as the driver he'd tried to help earlier. The agent didn't need to reach for his hip to understand that the weapon was his own. The two men regarded each other for a long moment, Don holding still and silent under the threat of the gun as he lay across the back seats.

"He's awake." The gunman finally announced.

"Keep the gun on him so he doesn't try nothin'." The other man responded.

"I got it!" The one with the gun responded somewhat angrily. The gun lifted slightly to add emphasis to his next order. "Give me the cell."

"Give me back my gun."

Don had expected that his demand would be ignored but he didn't expect the man's quick movement, lunging back between the seats to shove the gun into his face. Flinching away automatically he hardly dared to breathe as he wondered how volatile the two men really were. The answer to that was directly proportional to his chances of surviving the night.

"Cell." The man repeated firmly.

The agent considered his options for a moment trying not to stare at the muzzle so close to his face. The gunman was way off balance but his finger was on the trigger making any move that Don might try a sure chance of suicide. He was also stiff and sore and unsure just how capable he was of trying anything in the first place. There was nothing for it but to back down for now.

"Okay, okay." Don carefully raised one hand in surrender.

The gun withdrew slightly giving him room to slowly roll onto his back. The movement freed up his other hand so he could brush aside his already open jacket and gain access to the cell phone still in its holder on his belt. Ignoring for the moment the unexpected aching pain in his hip he continued with his task, pulling the cell out and holding it up within the man's reach. The device was snatched from his fingers and the man finally lowered the gun a little before moving back into his seat.

Don shifted again, stretching and trying to assess his injuries. Everything still hurt and he just managed to bite back a new groan that threatened. Adjusting his position again he determined that despite the pain nothing seemed to be broken, he was just going to be black and blue from the bruises he could feel developing on his torso. He wasn't sure what had happened to make his hip so sore but again nothing seemed to be broken. Gentle prodding with his hand confirmed that his face was swollen around his left eye and he got a flash of memory of the fist that had struck him there. Reminded of how he'd actually been knocked out he felt across his forehead and found a large dusty lump from where his head had been pounded into the ground. It wasn't just his torso that was going to be black and blue. Feeling up to the task he started to sit up only to find himself facing his gun again.

"Get back down."

Easing back slowly he held the man's gaze.

"He's gonna be a problem?" The one driving asked, glancing back quickly before returning his attention to the road.

"Maybe."

"Let me go and there won't be any problem." Don interjected.

"Shut up, Fed."

"So you know who I am." The agent wasn't too surprised by that. They'd found his gun so he would have expected them to investigate further, especially once they'd had a good look at his dash and found the extra radios and controller for the lights and siren. "Assaulting me is one thing when you didn't know who I was. Holding me now that you do is something else."

"We've already had a dust-up with the cops tonight, so don't think yourself so special." The driver explained, his voice hard.

The new titbit of information didn't make his position any better. He put together what little he knew, clearly the men had been on the run when they'd crashed which made him think that the car was also probably stolen. They'd had an encounter with police earlier in the evening but no police were in evidence at the crash scene, meaning that they'd successfully escaped and by the sounds of it violently. That finally provided a reason why he was along for the ride. He needed to know what had happened to the police during that encounter but knew he couldn't ask.

"So what's the plan then? You're away free, you don't need me." The lack of sirens following them suggested that.

"The plan is you shut up and do as you're told, or else." The driver threatened, clearly becoming angered.

"Troy." The gunman said, an odd tone in his voice.

"I think you're right, _Mitch_." The man now identified as Troy said, emphasizing the gunman's name in a clear sign of displeasure that names had been used. "I think he's gonna be a problem."

Not liking the sound of that at all, especially as he now had both their names, Don could do nothing as the SUV slowed and pulled off the side of the road. It seemed very much like Troy's anger was going to be taken out on him. They continued on the shoulder for a bit before turning slightly towards some trees that he could see through windows, concealing them from the road. The SUV pulled up with a jerk as Troy slammed on the brakes, forcing Don to fling an arm out so he didn't end up in the foot well in front of him.

"Give me that." Troy demanded harshly as he snatched the gun out of Mitch's hands.

"Troy-" Mitch started but was ignored as his partner opened his door and jumped out.

There was no time for Don to take advantage of the fact that a gun wasn't pointed directly at him. Before he could even try for the door handle the back door was opened and Troy was aiming the gun back at him.

"Out!"

Don had a sudden suspicion where this could be headed. "Don't do this. Whatever you've done is not worth this."

.

_**A/N:** Did anyone happen to notice I like the odd cliffhanger?_ :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Numb3rs: Crash**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_**A/N: ** Thanks everyone for your patience. As most of you know I have been experiencing a lot of trouble with the site and have been unable to post until now. It seems to be back up, hurrah! I will return to one post per day until complete. There are ten chapters in all, this is a completed fic, not a WIP.  
_

**CHAPTER THREE**

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Clearly not in the mood for arguing Troy reached in and grabbed a fistful of Don's jacket collar and the shirt underneath, dragging him across the seat towards the door. Don lashed out a couple of times in the confined space attempting to break the man's grip but failed, tumbling out headfirst onto the ground. Rolling away he got his feet under him and made it up only to see Troy immediately in front of him, gun hand already swinging in a vicious arc towards his head. He threw up his hand in an effort to block the blow as he tried to turn and duck in the same motion but it was already too late. An explosion of light and pain and he found himself lying on the hard packed, dusty ground. The threat of the gun and what he thought Troy intended to do provided enough motivation to get him moving again before the kick to his stomach flipped him off his knees and onto his back, winded yet again. A foot descended on his chest and pressed downwards firmly, further hampering his efforts to breathe. He stared up at the gun pointed directly at his face. Shifting his gaze for one last look at his killer's face he was surprised to see the play of emotions there.

"You try anything like that again and I _will_ kill you." Troy threatened after a long few seconds. "Roll over, hands behind your head."

The foot shoved harder, driving more air from his lungs, before lifting off his chest. Half stunned and still winded it took a few seconds to get his body moving and obey the order. It seemed that perhaps he wasn't about to be executed as he'd originally thought. He turned his head to one side in an effort to see what was happening in time to see the second man approach.

"We're gonna have to tie him up." Troy commented.

The agent had the feeling that it wasn't really what Troy wanted, he wanted more but was controlling himself. Don was grateful for that control as he was unable to change the potential outcome at the moment. It had already been far too close.

"He'll have cuffs, I'll get them." Mitch answered.

Don felt the man's hands on his back jerking up his jacket before opening the handcuff pouch and pulling out the restraints.

"Nah, not them. He already had one spare key, who knows how many more he's got." Troy countermanded. "Hold this. He moves, shoot him. I'm gonna look at the rest of his truck and see what he's got in there."

He really didn't like the sound of that either but there was still nothing he could do about it. Don turned his head up enough to see Mitch now standing over him, gun aimed downwards as Troy moved away. From the arguing he'd heard between the two men he was less sure that Mitch would actually kill him, but he was nowhere near sure enough that Mitch wouldn't use the gun to wound him. He couldn't risk another attempt at escape from his current position. Instead he rested in an effort to recuperate from the latest attack as he waited for the situation to go from bad to worse.

Sure enough, a few moments later the SUV's engine was shut down as Troy needed the keys to open the locked drawers in the rear of the vehicle. Don knew exactly what the man would find and wasn't surprised to hear the whoop of joy as those discoveries were made. Ballistic vests, a second smaller Glock, a rifle and plenty of ammunition. The radios, crime scene tape and other paraphernalia used to manage and investigate crime scenes he could be fairly sure they wouldn't be too interested in. Nevertheless he could hear the man rummaging around in the various drawers for a couple of minutes before Troy returned.

"What's he got?" Mitch asked, itching to know the reason for Troy's celebratory mood.

"These for starters." Troy held up a pair of heavy duty flex-cuffs of the type usually carried by SWAT teams prepared for multiple offenders. They were already set up, two loops ready for use. "No key's gonna get him out of these. Hands behind your back, Fed. I'm sure you know the drill."

Moving carefully, mindful of the gun still held on him, the agent lowered his arms until he had his wrists resting against his lower back. He tightened his hands into fists to increase the diameter of his wrists as much as he could in preparation for what would come next. Troy knelt and threaded his hands into the loops before pulling the ends to tighten the plastic against his wrists. As expected they were pulled down firmly but perhaps not quite as tightly as he'd feared, Troy's mood seemed to have improved somewhat. As Troy got up he relaxed his hands and found he had some small amount of slack, enough to keep the blood flow to his hands intact.

Troy headed back to the rear of the SUV without another word.

"What's he got?" Mitch repeated, starting to follow.

With the agent restrained and lying facedown on the ground he seemed to feel safe to do so. However Don's latest hope that he would be left alone long enough for him to escape into the brush was dashed before it had really been born.

"Stay there. Keep an eye on him." Troy ordered before his voice lightened. "I'll show you what _we_ got."

Looking very much like a kid opening Christmas presents Troy pulled the items one by one from the back of the SUV and showed them to his partner. Mitch near jumped up and down as he saw the haul. Don relaxed a little as less attention was paid to him, still not enough for him to try an escape but of benefit anyway. If they were happy, even if for all the wrong reasons, it would mean they would be a little less inclined to harm him further out of spite. Troy loaded the second Glock and swapped it for the one Mitch held. Don figured that Troy as the clear alpha wanted the bigger gun to prove it. The clips were found for the rifle but to the agent's relief it wasn't loaded. Instead it and the vests were put back into the rear of the SUV and the door closed.

"So what are you doing out here anyway, Fed?" Troy asked as they returned to stand over him once again.

Don had completely forgotten about that, more concerned with his own unexpected and rather dire predicament. He rolled to his side so he could see them both better, eying the two men in sudden trepidation even as he managed to keep the sudden jolt of fear off his face. Could these two be the serial killers they were after? Thinking on the early profile they'd already worked up the two were the right age and gender, one was a leader, the other a follower. Somehow, in spite of that, he didn't think they were the murderers but couldn't figure out the reason why he felt that way. As he continued to stare at them, and they at him, he found himself doubting his gut instincts.

"Not looking for you." Don said after the moment had drawn out a little too long. He managed to keep the question out of his voice as he watched for their reactions.

"You got that right. Feds aren't interested in two-bit robbers like us. Knocking over gas stations is a little below you lot. We've never crossed state lines or killed anyone so you got nothin'."

'Two-bit robbers'. Don hid his relief at their self description. It rang true despite the man's tone suggesting that he felt himself more important than that. They seemed to fit that part well, far better than torturers and murders despite what they'd done to him so far this evening. Their attack on him had been opportunistic and obviously designed around netting them a new getaway vehicle after they'd crashed their other one. The fact that they'd also netted a federal agent that they appeared to have decided to hold as a hostage and a cache of weapons was pure gravy for them. The latest attack had been anger driven, not the work of cold-hearted torturers and murderers that the profile of the men the FBI were after had identified.

"Not interested in you." Don confirmed as it seemed they were waiting for some sort of response from him. He decided to turn that into an offer. "Walk away."

Tony's head suddenly cocked to one side as he appeared to be listening. He started swearing.

Concentrating Don could hear it too, an approaching siren, still some ways away. A few seconds later there was another faint siren from a different direction. It was obvious the hunt was on. "You still have time."

Bending, Tony grabbed the agent by the arm and hauled him up. "Uh-uh. They're too close, Fed. Looks like it's time to go."

"You don't need me." Don insisted, trying to hold his ground. Not so easy when the ground shifted under his feet and he found himself relying on the man's hold to keep his balance. "You got my truck and you've got my weapons. They find me here, safe, and everything will go much easier on you when they track you down."

"That's the bit I'm worried about, them finding us. We keep you we can make them let us go." Troy argued back. "So shut up and move."

Shoved towards his SUV Don managed to keep to his feet, in the process discovering that the soreness in his hip was just that, soreness not serious damage that would prevent him from running if he got the opportunity. The firm grip on his upper arm meant that the opportunity wasn't about to present itself this time around, assuming he could do better than stagger into the nearest tree if he tried given his current condition. Pushed up into the back seat he held still as Troy placed the seatbelt across his chest and buckled him in. Even with his hands secured uncomfortably behind him he'd rather have the belt on expecting at some point they would likely end up in a pursuit given the signs that police were flooding the area.

As they pulled back onto the road his cell phone started to ring again. Mitch pulled it out of the centre console where he'd dropped it earlier and looked at the display.

"David? Who's David?"

"One of my agents." Don answered after a moment. "I need to answer that."

"No." Troy reached out and after taking the phone from Mitch put it back into the centre console. "You don't."

Suspecting that it had been at least the second unanswered call from David, Don didn't argue any further. He expected that David would try again soon and if that went unanswered he'd start the ball rolling to track him down. He certainly didn't want to push the matter further and have them turn his phone off or toss it out of the truck. Sure enough, ten minutes later it rang again and they let it ring out. Don knew that David wouldn't give up, the calls likely to increase in frequency.

Just at that moment they saw flashing red and blue lights coming at them from ahead. Appearing like an innocent motorist Troy slowed and pulled over to the shoulder, rolling along out of the way as a patrol car flashed by. The patrol unit didn't attempt an intercept, just continued past and away indicating that they didn't yet have a description of the fugitive's vehicle. That would only be a matter of time, a fact recognised by all three of them. Don was somewhat angered though, with so little traffic on the road this late at night any vehicle should have been fair game for a stop and search in the hunt for the fugitives.

"We gotta get a new car." Troy suddenly decided.

Mitch had no argument with his friend's idea. The fed's SUV was a sweet ride but one they needed to get rid of, far too flashy and memorable, especially this far outside of LA. It was only the dark of night and the fact that the SUV was black that was giving them the edge at the moment. Looking ahead he saw the bright lights that over the last few months had given them so much satisfaction as they'd travelled around the state, a remote gas station. Such an easy target even if the pickings were usually slim. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that they missed dinner being arrested. They'd be able to get food there as well. "Gas station."

"I see it." It had been what had given Troy the idea in the first place. He found a spot and pulled over on the shoulder where he was able to stop the SUV once again a fair way off the roadway, down an embankment this time where it would be less likely to be noticed by passing traffic. He glanced back at the silently watchful fed as he spoke to his partner. "Let's gear up. That's the right term isn't it?"

Don remained silent. They were planning on robbing the gas station he could see up ahead and were going to use his equipment to do it. He was helpless to prevent it and could only hope that the attendant didn't resist. Troy's first comment also suggested that they intended to hijack a new car and again he hoped that the owner didn't put up a fight. He knew only too well that the two robbers had no hesitation in meeting resistance with violence and now that they were well armed that could potentially lead to serious injury if not death for their victim.

It took the two men a while to get organised, unfamiliar with ballistic vests they struggled with the arrangements of straps and Velcro until finally managing to get the vests settled into place. In all their fiddling they didn't find the panels that were obscuring the bright white "FBI" lettering much to Don's relief. The situation was bad enough as it was without the men being mistaken for FBI agents as well. The rifle was loaded and placed into the passenger foot well for easy access.

"What about him?" Mitch suddenly asked.

At the question Don's head turned sharply from where he'd been staring steadily ahead, glancing first at Mitch next to the front passenger door and then back at Troy who was still at the rear of the SUV. It was a damned good question and one he'd been dreading, hence his silence and the reason he'd been studiously ignoring the two as they finished their preparations. If they left him in the SUV while they committed their crimes he was going to use the opportunity to attempt escape, he'd already tested his range of motion and confirmed he would be able to reach the seatbelt release when ready. That was his preferred option, otherwise if they forced him to go with them he could become another weapon to be used against the attendant and any hijacked driver leaving his own chance of escape somewhere next to nil.

The rear door slammed shut and Don watched as Troy walked up along the side of the SUV until opening the rear door, exposing the agent. Don kept his expression neutral with a shade of innocence as he stared back at the man. The longer he spent with them the more he believed his first impression that they were exactly what they said they were, small scale robbers. Serious enough crimes but the types of people that committed them were easier to deal with than a lot of the hardened criminals he normally dealt with, even if the ready ability to deal out violence was a little out of the ordinary. Don still figured he had a shot at appearing not to be a threat to them on this. Then the man grabbed him by the front of his jacket and hauled him forward, balling up his right hand. Don realised there was a third option he hadn't considered just as the fist struck him.

The ringing of his cell phone a few minutes later failed to rouse him.

...


	4. Chapter 4

**Numb3rs: Crash**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**-10010-1111-10-10-101-10010-10011-**

The fed's head snapped back then lolled forward. Giving the man a quick shake he confirmed that he'd knocked him out. Pushing him back with a satisfied smile he gave the seatbelt a quick jerk to lock it, holding the unconscious man upright. He was still determined now to dump the fed alive when they were finished with him but that didn't mean unhurt. He was getting some back for all the hits he'd taken from overzealous cops when he was growing up back home. Slamming the door he turned to find Mitch looking at him with a somewhat accusing expression.

"What? You getting soft on him?"

"No! Just, he's gonna be sick you keep doing that to him." Mitch knew what that was all about, he'd been pummelled a few times himself over the years and had experienced the consequences of being hit in the head and knocked out repeatedly over a short period.

"Just as long as he's not sick in the car what do I care?" Troy snapped. "Let's do this before he wakes up."

Following their usual pattern they cruised past the gas station to check it out. It was the typical set up, pumps out the front, LPG cylinder out the back away from the main building and the shop itself, small enough to not have a diner attached. There was no sign of life but the lights blazed brightly indicating it was open for business.

"No cars." Mitch reported. That was a little unusual, it looked like the attendant didn't have a car and there were no customers. His stomach rumbled but it wasn't what they were looking for so he continued reluctantly, "Go on to the next one?"

Troy gave that a few moments thought as the lights dwindled behind them. He braked and made a U-turn. "Stuff it. I'm hungry and we could do with some cash."

"What about gas?"

"Almost full." He'd already noted the gauge.

"I got the dude?"

"Nothin's changed."

Pulling in they eased to a stop next to one of the pumps. As they opened their doors they saw the attendant peer out at them through the window. Still partially hidden behind his door as the first one out, Troy gave a friendly wave and received one back. He suddenly realised that wearing the bullet-proof vests may not have been such a great idea, the young man would notice and react, probably locking the door against them. They'd been hitting enough gas stations around the area that he'd noticed the attendants starting to get jumpy. He'd already decided that it was time for them to move on and start elsewhere before they were busted. If they were to do this again they would need some jackets to hide the vests. Hissing at Mitch to wait he pretended to reach for something in the SUV until he saw the attendant look away.

"We gotta get to the door before he notices us." Troy instructed. "Ready?"

Getting into the spirit of things Mitch nodded. "Lock and load."

That brought a new grin to Troy's face as his mood lifted further. Some elements of the evening had not gone so well for them but the good parts were coming close to making up for it. Gun in hand he joined his partner in rushing the door. They made it just in time, the attendant peering back out as the pump hadn't started, obviously wondering what his potential customers were up to. Mitch was first in and moved immediately to secure the young man behind the counter, not giving him time to hit the lock or the alarm.

"Don't touch the alarm! Hands up! Don't move!"

Mitch had come a long way in the few months they'd been together, he'd taught his younger partner well. Adding the threat of his gun to Mitch's orders Troy was satisfied to see the attendant's expression turn to terror. Close up now he saw that the attendant was little more than a boy, perhaps seventeen years old at the most. The kid immediately flung his hands up into the air and backed away until brought up by the wall behind him.

Mitch moved around the counter and grabbed the kid by the shirt front as he aggressively shoved the gun under his chin. Dragging him out they moved a short distance into the store before the kid was roughly flung to the floor between some shelves. Standing over him Mitch kept the gun pointed at the kid's head as he cowered in a ball on the floor. They'd found that to be the best approach, give the attendant no time to do anything, get them away from any silent alarms and by being rough right at the start knock all thoughts of resistance out of their heads. It was getting easier every time.

For Troy that gave him an added benefit. With Mitch controlling the staff and customers he had the power to walk around like he owned the joint, taking or leaving whatever he wanted. He was the one in charge.

"Don't kill me. Don't kill me. Please don't kill me." The kid repeated over and over in terror.

"Shut up!" Mitch yelled harshly and the kid subsided, trembling.

Wasting no more time Troy opened the register and took out the measly takings, just over a hundred dollars by the look of it which meant they had to hit another gas station before they went too much further. They'd had to abandon their stuff back at their room and would need new gear; a hundred dollars wouldn't cut it. Maybe they could move up to something a little bigger now that they got the vests and the rifle. At the thought he suddenly realised they'd left the rifle out in the SUV. Smacking his forehead with his free hand he resolved to remember to bring it next time, it would help with the whole 'shock and awe' approach to front the next attendant, or better yet bank teller, with the military weapon.

Checking that his partner still had the kid under control he headed over to the food section, selecting several prepacked hotdogs from the fridge. Placing them in the microwave he dialled up the required time and waited for them to heat. Impatiently he watched the time tick down, this delay was not their normal deal and he was feeling antsy as the seconds stretched. At the same time he found himself hoping someone did come in so they could 'jack their car. The bell on the microwave caused him to jump and it was only the fact that his finger wasn't on the trigger that prevented his gun from going off. Grabbing at the hot food he scooped some sodas and water from the fridge and made for the door, Mitch's job was to hold the attendant until he got into their car and was ready to move.

As he reached the SUV he spared a quick moment to peer at their hostage, finding him still with his head hanging slackly. Exactly they way he'd expected to find him having hit the fed pretty hard and still able to feel the impact against his knuckles. Dumping the food on the centre console he started the SUV and pulled up next to the doors, tapping the horn briefly to get his partner's attention. He wasn't quite prepared for the loud noise but quickly remembered it was a cop car and should have expected the horn to have been modified. He saw Mitch bend briefly before making his way out, a parting threat to keep the kid's head down long enough for them to get up onto the road and away.

"Go!" Mitch yelled as he jumped in.

Troy wasn't waiting, already peeling out and onto the highway, his acceleration closing Mitch's door. He turned left, heading back the way they'd just come, foot pressed flat to the floor in a showy getaway. It was another of their little tricks which worked really well at night time to throw any pursuit off their backs. A mile or so down the road he again made a U-turn and cruised back just under the speed limit, just a late night motorist completely innocent of any wrongdoing. Passing the gas station they looked in and could pick out the attendant standing at the counter, phone pressed to his ear.

"Yeah!" Mitch whooped as the lights disappeared behind them. It was always a rush, the whole reason he'd hooked up with Troy. He held up his hand and received the high-five he expected even if less enthusiastically than usual. "How much?"

"Lousy hundred."

It was pretty much their standard haul so Mitch wasn't too disappointed even if Troy seemed to be. The smell of the hotdogs, thick in the enclosed space, reminded him of more important things. "Food! I'm starved."

"Get mine out of the packet for me, will ya?" Troy asked as Mitch started to tear at one of the wrappers.

He took the offered hotdog and bit into it, finding it greasy and lousy as usual. Gas station heat-it-yourself food he didn't really like, much preferring proper food from a diner. Give him a fresh burger and fries any day. But he was hungry, their arrest had made them miss dinner and he was able to wolf down the first one and was ready for the second just as Mitch finished his. The sudden deep groan from behind them distracted both of them from the food.

The groan turned into sharp panting breaths and he realised that Mitch had been right; the fed was going to be sick. The last thing he wanted was the smell of vomit in the car. Swerving off the road he pulled up quickly.

"Get the door!"

Mitch was already moving having recognised the signs for himself, pulling open the back door and releasing the fed's seat belt. Troy got there just as Mitch helped their hostage out. As Troy grabbed the fed's other arm he realised that the man was still half out of it but aware enough to be sick. They helped him a few paces away from the truck before the fed stopped, bending over sharply and starting to retch.

"Ugh!" He commented, turning away and trying to breathe through his mouth as the fed lost his dinner. He made sure nothing splattered on his shoes. "That's disgusting."

"You shouldn't have hit him."

"Yeah? Well what else were we gonna do with him while we knocked that joint over?" He couldn't understand why his partner was being protective of the fed; perhaps he was still worried about him killing the man.

"I don't know. Something else. He's gonna slow us down like this."

The fed was dry retching now; back heaving as he was still trying to be sick with nothing left in his stomach. Troy released his grip and shoved him away towards his partner since he seemed to care for the damned fed. "Well you look after him then. Just don't take too long about it. We gotta keep moving."

"We should dump him." Mitch suggested. The fed had stopped retching and looked about ready to collapse, only remaining on his feet because he was being held up.

"No." That was not going to happen, having convinced himself that they needed to hold the fed for a while yet. If they weren't stopped by mid-morning they could get rid of him.

Giving up on holding the sagging man upright Mitch walked him back a few steps before he lowered the fed until he was sitting on the ground leaning back against the SUV's rear wheel. Mitch waved at his still open door. "I'll need some water for him then."

Carefully stepping around the remains of the fed's dinner Troy grabbed the bottle of water from the front passenger foot well where all the drinks had landed as he'd jumped into the SUV back at the gas station. A rag in the door pocket caught his eye and he grabbed that too.

"Clean him up. I don't want to smell it." He ordered, handing the items to Mitch as he went past. The fed was still leaning back against the wheel, but Troy could see he was now fully aware despite the closed eyes and not taking any notice of anything happening around him.

Climbing back up into the driver's seat as he waited he eyed one of the remaining hotdogs. His stomach still grumbled but he found he couldn't face eating at the moment, not after what he'd just seen and smelt. The fed was so not putting himself in his good books. The rush from the robbery shifted to anger as he reached down and retrieved a can of soda instead.

**-100-1111-1110-**

If he'd thought he had a bad headache before he was wrong. That was his first thought as the pounding in his head made itself known as he regained consciousness. They hit a pothole and the resultant jerk made his head hurt even more. But that suddenly paled into insignificance as a thick smell assaulted him. The grease and general aroma suggested hot food and his stomach immediately rebelled, flipping over and punishing him with sudden sharp nausea. Keeping his eyes closed he fought to control his body, panting in short shallow breaths knowing that a deep breath would be followed by everything in his stomach coming back up.

Dimly he was aware of the car swerving to the right and pulling up sharply, the seat belt tightening in time to prevent him striking the seat in front of him. The door opening beside him he was immediately aware of, he desperately needed out. He tried to lunge for the door but was held back by the seat belt. He felt hands on him pushing him back then releasing the belt and pulling him out where a second set of hands took his other arm. Staggering a few steps away from the car he couldn't hold on any longer, bending over as the nausea got the better of him.

He was barely aware of voices as his stomach tried to follow his dinner, the painful spasms wracking his body when there was nothing left in him. Finally they eased as he felt himself being shoved sideways into the man on his right. Weak and with his head feeling two sizes too big and still threatening to fall off he sagged against his support as the voices continued. He tried to concentrate but the words remained a blur. Finally the man holding him lowered him to the ground, easing him back until he was leaning against a solid surface. Turning his head he tried to spit the taste out of his mouth and was finally able to decipher the words as Mitch asked his partner for water.

Now he could take deeper breaths and concentrated on his breathing as he waited for the much needed water. He also became more aware of his surroundings and was able to piece together the last few minutes. Shifting to give his trapped hands some space he tilted his head back against what had to be the side of a vehicle, there was no guarantee it was still his SUV, and tried to regain his strength, the cold, fresh air helping.

...


	5. Chapter 5

**Numb3rs: Crash**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**-100-1111-1110- **

"Here, Fed." Mitch's voice sounded close to his ear. "Drink."

Don finally managed to pry both of his eyes open enough to see the bottle of water held up near his face. Moving his head forward in obvious need the robber tipped the bottle up enabling him to drink. Greedily he took quite a few mouthfuls before stopping. His stomach twinged dangerously as the initial few swallows reached it but soon settled, feeling better for having something back in it again. The nausea remained but it was nowhere near as bad as before and easily manageable. He'd closed his eyes again so was unprepared for the sudden touch of something cold and wet against his face. He flinched back, nearly banging his head against the vehicle behind him before seeing that it was merely a damp rag that Mitch was using to clean his face. Holding still he submitted to the ministrations, the coolness of the water along with the still freezing night helping him to regain his equilibrium.

"Don." He finally managed as the rag was pulled away and he'd had some more water.

"Huh?"

"My name is Don."

"I've heard about this, Fed. Stop it. Not gonna work on me."

"Just telling you my name." Don protested even if Mitch was right. He was trying to build a rapport, the man had shown some level of concern for him since they'd met and was now helping him recover from being violently sick. Don had hoped it would give him a chance of connecting with him and the best way to start was with his name.

"Your name is 'Fed' and you don't wanna get me mad at you as well."

"Haven't done anything to you." He argued as he looked at the criminal. He hadn't done anything to the other man either. "Tried to help you."

"I know." Mitch had the grace to look a little guilty for a moment before the expression hardened. "Wrong place, wrong time for you."

"Tell me about it." Don agreed. If only he'd been a little quicker getting dressed and away from home, maybe if he'd forgone that quick cup of instant coffee he'd sculled before heading out. The stop for fuel had been necessary but the extra time for the instant coffee back home hadn't been. Those extra couple of minutes would have put him past that section of road and he would probably have barely noted the fugitive's headlights as they passed him, nothing more. Dealing with a major homicide scene would be far better than the position he now found himself in.

"More water?"

There was more than one way to built rapport. "Please." The water went down and stayed down. He remembered what he wanted to know earlier and decided to risk questioning the man. "What happened to you tonight?"

"We got busted right after pulling our last job." Mitch answered readily enough. "We'd just escaped from a cell at the station before we crashed."

That led him straight to what he wanted to know. "What happened to the cops?"

"Nothin' much, just knocked them out before we split."

That meant they weren't cop-killers. At least not yet, he amended after recalling Troy's sharp anger. After knocking the officers out they must really have been in a hurry as he'd seen no signs of any weapons other than his own in their possession.

"So what now?" Don continued, pressing his luck. "You got a car, you got guns and you got me. You've pulled off another robbery. What now?"

"Now you shut up and we get moving." Another voice responded heatedly. "I'm sick of telling you that!"

Concentrating on Mitch, Don had not heard or seen the other man approach. He turned in time to see a foot heading his way as he received a kick to his right hip. That explained why his hip was already sore, he must have been kicked earlier while he was unconscious back when they'd first jumped him.

"Hey, quit it!" Mitch protested, rising quickly. "I told you to stop hitting him."

"Since when do you tell me what to do?" Troy retorted, his voice dangerously low. "I told you to get him cleaned up, not tell him our life story. You're supposed to be keeping him under control. So do your job, keep him quiet or I will hit him again. You don't want that, do ya, Fed?"

The hand in his hair jerked his head back, the sting from his hair being pulled adding to his all round discomfort. No, he really didn't want to be hit again. He was in bad enough shape as it was with a probable concussion and needed to recover to be able to work on a plan of escape. Feeling that he had to answer he told the truth. "No."

"That's what I thought." Troy released his grip and stepped away, turning back to his partner. "Get him up and into the car. We're going."

Mitch moved in and pulled him up. Don helped as best he could, getting his legs under him and pushing up, cooperating as he was assisted into the back seat. In the process he discovered that they were still using his SUV, the robbery must have failed in that regard even if it had succeeded in others as the smell of food reasserted itself. His stomach threatened but he was able to control the reaction.

Troy was out of earshot and the agent wanted to salvage what he could from the brief conversation with Mitch. As he was buckled in he turned slightly and kept his voice down he spoke. "Sorry."

"What?" Mitch responded as he paused, leaning over him.

"For getting you into trouble, sorry."

"You do as he says, as we say, and you'll be okay." Mitch admonished before moving back and raising his voice. "So shut up or I'll let him at you. Got it?"

"Got it." Don responded even as he started wondering just who was fooling who.

**-100-1-10110-1001-100- **

"Agent Sinclair, how much longer before we can move the bodies?"

The FBI photographer had finished his work, as had the forensics team. David had called in both and had rolled them with him and Colby as soon as the job had come in, eliminating a lot of time. The scene was now fully mapped and every angle had been covered. It was only the fact that Don liked to see the scene for himself before it was disturbed that was holding them back. David had waited until the situation had been confirmed upon their arrival before disturbing his boss' night off thus creating the delay they now found themselves experiencing.

David turned and looked at the officer asking the question. Glancing down he checked his watch, wondering not for the first time just where his boss was. His three calls since Don reported the crash had gone unanswered. The first one he could maybe understand, Don would have been in the thick of things helping out. The other two however didn't make as much sense, Don rarely missed a call these days and certainly not while a big job was running. Holding up his hand for patience he pulled out his cell and dialled again, listening as it rang until diverting to messages. Hanging up he finally addressed the sheriff.

"He went off at that crash on the way here. You got any more information on that?" David had passed Don's request for an ambulance to the sheriff.

The older man nodded. "Heard the EMTs call in saying they'd been run of the road on the way in to the job and that there was no one there when they reached the car."

"No one? Not even Special Agent Eppes?" David was instantly alarmed. Why hadn't he been told about this? But then, he had to remind himself, he was running this scene, leaving the sheriff to run his town. He'd noticed the local officer taking a few calls both on his cell and radio over the last hour or so but had been too busy with his own work to wonder what they were about.

"Nope. Figured he'd already left to continue coming up here, maybe he's gotten lost or something."

"That was too long ago, it's only about fifteen minutes from there to here. He's got a GPS, he wouldn't be lost." David was also sure Don would still have been able to hear his phone, cell reception up in this neck of the woods was surprising good, he'd had coverage the whole way up from LA.

"How am I supposed to know that?" Sheriff Grealy said, bristling at David's tone.

Reminding himself not to snap at the local man David he held up his hand in apology before asking his next question. "Do you know anything about the crash? Who was in the car? Anything?"

Grealy returned to his normal friendly tone. "Yeah, my boys recognised the car. Belongs to one of my deputies. It was stolen as them two armed robbery fellas escaped."

David suddenly knew where this was all headed. This was the first he'd heard about some armed robbers being in the area let alone being caught then escaping. Don going off at the crash and now not answering his cell suggested that something seriously untoward had happened. If only Nikki hadn't been away on a course at Quantico, Don wouldn't have been alone. "Tell me they've caught the two men."

"Can't do that." Now the sheriff started sounding concerned. "Still on the run. We figured they were probably in the vehicle that tried to run our EMT off the road."

"Have you got a description of the vehicle?"

The man shook his head. Looking at the agent he found himself on the same wavelength. "Nope, all he saw were high-beams coming right at him."

David urgently waved at Colby to get his partner's attention from where he was discussing something with a forensics technician. "Sheriff, I want that crash treated as a crime scene. Until we know otherwise I have to assume that something has happened to Special Agent Eppes. Get your men to search the area for evidence and have a BOLO put out for his car."

"Sure, I'll get them onto it. We're already searching for any dumped vehicles. Hang on." The older man suddenly raised his own hand as his cell rang. Moving away he took the call.

"David?" Colby queried as he approached.

Quickly David outlined his suspicions.

"What about the radio?"

"Try it." David doubted that Don would have had it on but it was worth a shot. But then, if Don had been having phone trouble he would have turned it on. Colby wasted no time running to their car. As he waited David saw the sheriff finish his call before reaching for his own radio and issuing instructions.

Colby returned a minute or so later. "I've tried several times, no answer. I did a comms check with Control but they've not heard from him either. They'll let us know if they do and tell him to call us. I've also asked them to get the techs to ping the GPS tracker on the SUV, we should have something soon."

David nodded at the report. "Alright, I want you to head down to the crash and take over there. I'll finish up here."

"I think we got a lead on our two fellas and maybe your missing agent, or at least his vehicle." The sheriff announced as he returned. "Just had a report that Sal's gas station a bit further up the highway has just been hit. Is your boss driving some sort of black SUV, not one of them mafia staff cars like yours?" He waved his hand in the general direction of the black Chrysler 300C the agents had arrived in.

David nodded, if the situation hadn't been so serious he would have found the sheriff's description of their car amusing but now it barely registered. "Black Chevy Suburban."

"Then it fits. Young Jimmy said there were two men, armed with handguns, wearing bullet-proof vests and driving a big black SUV. Peeled out of there heading back towards town in a real hurry. I've got some units heading out there now. Looks like you may be right with what's happened to your boss."

It was only too obvious to David and the sheriff where the robbers would have obtained their weapons and the ballistic vests. It was confirmation that they had Don's SUV and all the stores it contained, but he wasn't really concerned about the loss of the vehicle or the equipment at the moment. "He didn't see anyone else?"

"Nope. Just the two men."

Hoping that meant Don had been dumped somewhere and hoping more desperately that he'd been dumped alive he shared a glance with Colby finding that his partner was clearly hoping the same thing. He had to ask the next question. "They ever killed anyone?"

"Never. They've always been armed but have never fired a shot. They usually rough up the attendants just as they did my two men earlier tonight when they busted out but nothing more serious." Grealy answered, attempting to sound confident that their clean run would continue but something was off about his tone as he continued. "They took a kid hostage a couple of days back and let him go a few miles on down the road, battered but otherwise fine. If they still got your agent he should be okay."

If they were desperate enough to rough up police officers and even worse, take an agent hostage, David wasn't too sure that Don would be okay. But he detected the odd note in the sheriff's voice, particularly at the end. David pushed. "What are you not saying?"

"These boys," Grealy paused a little reluctant to continue as it would undo his reassurances of a moment ago. "They've been getting a touch more violent at each robbery. The kid they took? He was a little more battered than he should have been; he'd done everything they told him."

David knew that if Don really was in the hands of these two escapees he wouldn't be meekly obeying their orders, he would resist in whatever way he could. He changed his mind about what he needed Colby to do; the search at the crash site could be handled by the locals.

"Go to the gas station instead." David started after turning to his partner. "They must have some footage that could maybe confirm whether or not Don was with them. Either way we need to track these two down and find out what they did with him."

David was frustrated, he was going to have the scene cleared but that meant that he had to stay and supervise the process. Finding Don was going to rest on Colby's shoulders for now. He turned back to the sheriff. "You got some men you can call out for a search?"

The sheriff reached for his phone again. "Sure do. I've got some local volunteers I can call out. I'll get them started on a line search in the area around the crash in case they left your man in the trees. Or any other evidence." He added softly as they all hoped it wouldn't come to that. He returned to his normal tone as he continued after a brief pause. "I've already got my cars out hunting and they've been updated on the details. I'll also call Bill, the next sheriff over, and get him to put his troops out on the road. If the robbery was really them two fellas they would've turned around and be headed up his way by now."

"Where's that gas station?" Colby asked. Receiving the information he headed off to their car at a run.

"Thanks, Sheriff." David said as Colby peeled out, dust flying up from the powerful car's wheels. David was satisfied that everything that could be done was being done. Despite not keeping him in the loop over a matter that really wasn't his concern anyway, the sheriff was no slouch at organising his resources.

As the officer pulled out a notebook and started making his calls David headed over to the waiting coroner's men to give them the go ahead to start bagging the bodies. The sooner he got that started the sooner he could join in the hunt. Ensuring that the forensics technicians and the photographer were all standing by in case new evidence presented itself as the bodies were removed there was nothing much more he could do for the moment.

Well, there was one more thing he could do but he debated whether or not it was time to make the call to the ADIC. After a few minutes thought he decided he couldn't wait, if it all turned out to be a giant misinterpretation of the evidence then the ADIC could chew him out right after Don. If not then at least wheels would have already started turning back down in LA and resources would be ready when he needed them.

…


	6. Chapter 6

**Numb3rs: Crash**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

**CHAPTER SIX**

**-100-1-10110-1001-100- **

"Agent Sinclair!" Sheriff Grealy suddenly called out.

The sheriff was still listening intently at his radio but had his hand up gesturing in a sharp 'come here' manner when David looked over. Quickly signing the form that had been just handed to him by the coroner's men he hurried over. The form was the authority that they needed to take the bodies away to the morgue in LA where autopsies would be performed in the morning. His need to stay at the scene was just about done, just waiting now on the final sweep by forensics. Reaching the sheriff he caught the tail end of the conversation.

"I'll advise the lead agent. Stay back until we can get a roadblock sorted, they may have an FBI agent hostage."

"_Copy."_ A male voice responded.

"You found them?"

"One of Bill's units just spotted a black suburban with federal plates. Figure that had to be yours." Grealy held out his notepad where he'd recorded the plate details. He received the expected nod, they matched. It had been a fairly safe conclusion as there wouldn't be any other federal government vehicles in the area this late at night. "I'm going to get Bill to set up the roadblock as it's in his patch now. I'll give you the location so you can get your man to catch up if you like."

David was already flipping his phone open. When the call connected he provided Colby with the details, from the map Grealy had open and ready to go all he had to do was follow the road from the gas station, heading away from LA. It seemed that the escapees weren't expecting pursuit so early to have remained on the same road since pulling off the robbery. But then again, consulting the map there really weren't any alternative routes if they wanted out of the area without going back through the town they'd just escaped. He then noted something interesting as he traced the road's path. The so-called highway really wasn't, at least not the way the escapees were headed, it was long but the road just linked together a string of towns before terminating at the last one. Hopefully that meant they had their quarry trapped.

His next call was to Control, they should have finalised a location via the SUV's GPS by now. With the SUV already spotted there was another GPS device he wanted pinged.

"_We've already activated the cell phone GPS, Agent Sinclair."_ The FBI technician reported. They'd been about to call him with both sets of details, hence the slight delay that the tech had already apologised for. _"Comes up as the same location and moving."_

"The cell phone's in the SUV?" David queried, seeking confirmation.

"_Looks like."_

That was good news, they had a means of communication when the time was right. He turned to give the news to the sheriff but his radio crackled into life.

"_Sheriff Grealy, 215."_

"Go ahead, Dave."

"_They've spotted me, accelerating away."_

"Keep on them, but don't push."

"_Copy. Passing mile marker 139."_

"How far ahead does that make them?" David queried.

"Not as far as I'd thought they'd be. They should have been further up the road than that given the timeframe. They must have stopped for a while." He glanced over at the agent as the significance of that struck him and the agent both. He saw the agent lick his lips as he thought the new information over.

"Alright. Keep the land search going but the priority now is stopping the SUV, that's our best lead." David decided. They had to finalise the search to eliminate the original crash site. The location of the cell phone was still no guarantee as to the location of the missing agent. "Any word on that roadblock?"

"We were looking at mile marker 170, up around this area here," Grealy pointed at a section of the map showing nothing except the main road passing through more forest just after a section of tight bends that suggested hills. The following straightaway an ideal spot for a high risk intercept. "Bill's going to try to move it down a bit closer, bring this thing to a stop sooner if he can get it all organised in time. Maybe around here somewhere." He tapped a new section that to David's eye looked much like the first except it was just before the hills.

"Good. How many units you got in the area?"

"215 was the furthest south of Bill's units. I've got two of mine only a few miles behind and should be catching up soon. Then there's your other agent."

That made three vehicles each containing only one man in pursuit. When they hit the roadblock there would be more officers but the odds were still not the best. He noted that they would pass some cross roads before they reached either of the suggested roadblock locations meaning that the added back-up waiting at a roadblock may not be available if they headed off down one of those roads. "Can we get any more units up there?"

"Agent, this isn't LA. I've only got so many men to go around. The same goes for Bill." The sheriff explained reasonably. "I've only got one other car that I'm sending up, mine. When you're done here I figured you want to come with me since your ride's gone."

"I understand. I should be done in a couple of minutes, maybe less." David had just noticed that the forensics team were breaking down their floodlights and loading their gear into their van. He went back over and checked, nothing new had been found. The senior forensics man gave him a rundown of the scene revealed by the removal of the bodies but, aside from the blood soaked ground of which samples had been taken, there was nothing new. Despite the threat to a fellow agent they could not cut corners here, three people had died and deserved justice. It seemed callous to even think it but David was glad this scene was like the first last week, both sets of victims had been tortured and killed elsewhere making this a secondary crime scene. If had been a primary scene they would have been here long into the day. The primary scenes were yet to be found.

"Thanks, Sinclair. We'll get everything back to the lab and start processing." The senior tech reported as he received his own signature from the lead agent. The man glanced over at the waiting sheriff, they'd heard enough to know what was happening. "Good luck. Let us know how you go."

For a brief moment he considered having the forensics team follow them up as additional manpower but the evidence they carried could not be compromised. Besides, their van was built for its specific purpose of crime scene analysis, not as a high performance vehicle. Neither were the technicians armed. He had to let them go. "Thanks. Will do."

He returned to the sheriff in time to hear an update from 215.

"_Looks like a block back at 170 will be best."_ The deputy concluded. David could hear his siren in the background.

A new voice responded. _"We'll get it ready. Stop-sticks a mile south of the block, watch for them."_

"_Copy. I know the spot."_

"That was Bill, Sheriff Cody." Grealy explained, introducing the new voice. "He's running the show. 215 is now in pursuit. They're doing a touch over seventy, dangerous on that road up there. Dave's keeping his distance but has lit up for everyone's safety."

"I'm going to try ringing them. Open the lines of communication. With a unit in pursuit they might feel like talking." David started dialling as he climbed into the passenger seat of the sheriff's SUV, it was time.

The first attempt went through to message bank, along with the second. All the while they were hearing the reports that 215 was making to Sheriff Cody, the mile markers rapidly ticking down closer to the magic 169 where the stop-sticks were set up. Things would certainly get a whole lot more interesting from there. Pressing the green button again he waited as the ring tone began. He automatically started counting down the rings before it would divert and was almost caught by surprise when it answered, one ring short.

"_Eppes."_ The voice was different from normal, not as brusque. Rather, the senior agent sounded tired.

"Don!" David exclaimed, he wasn't sure what he had expected but hearing directly from Don was somewhat of a surprise given the way things had been going. "What's happened? We-"

"_Agent David something?"_ A new voice suddenly interrupted.

Everything suddenly changed. He forced his brain into gear. "Special Agent David Sinclair. Who's this?"

"_Listen up Sinclair. You want this fed to remain in one piece you do as I say. Got it?" _The tone was harsh.

David lowered the phone and quickly pressed the loudspeaker button enabling Sheriff Grealy to listen in. The situation was now more than clear. "I'm listening. What do you want?"

"_I want that cop car to back off. You got the pull for that?"_

"I can make it happen." David offered. "What do I get in return?"

"_The fed continues to breathe. How's that sound?"_

David pointed to the radio and nodded at the sheriff. Taking his lead Grealy reached for his handset and put in a call to 215.

"_215."_

Knowing it was going over the phone as well as the radio Grealy spelt it out. "The FBI is in contact with your suspects. You have to back off, they are threatening the life of the agent they are holding hostage."

"_Copy that. Dropping back."_

David was grateful for small town sheriffs and their easy interagency cooperation making it possible that a unit belonging to a different sheriff would still take Grealy's orders without question.

"I've ordered the unit to back off." David announced unnecessarily. "Now what?"

"_You get him to disappear. I get a hundred miles of clear road behind me I might think about giving you back the fed."_

"I can't do that." He responded to the unreasonable demand. Now that they'd found them and knew they had Don they weren't letting them out of their sight. It was also clear the fugitives didn't know they were on a dead end road albeit a long one. "You know that isn't going to happen."

"_Then you won't be getting him back any time soon then, will ya?"_ The voice retorted.

"We need to talk about this. I want my man back, you want to get away. We have something to work with." David was trying to steer them away from demands towards negotiation.

"_Put the phone back to him,"_ The voice said, fainter and apparently to another person before rising suddenly. _"Hey Fed, tell your friend to get the cops to back off."_

"_David?"_

**-100-1111-1110- **

They hadn't gone too far down the road before a set of headlights appeared behind them. Don noted the glare of the lights and carefully turned his aching head far enough to catch a glimpse of the bright lights. After a couple of minutes he looked back to see them in the same position. After having rapidly caught up to them the vehicle behind them now seemed content to hold position. Sudden hope flared. Just at that point Troy had obviously also noticed the lights and now decided to test them. Accelerating he lifted their speed by about ten miles per hour. Don again looked back to find the headlights keeping pace, the same distance behind as they'd been earlier. Troy accelerated again after a couple of minutes and Don didn't need to turn his head to see the red and blue lights that suddenly flashed on behind them. He couldn't hear a siren but the unit was too far behind them for that as it still made no move to approach or pass.

"Cops!" Mitch finally noted.

"Really?" Troy queried sarcastically. "I hadn't noticed."

"What're they doing?"

"Just sitting there."

"They know we got the fed."

"See? I told you we had to keep him." Troy said, vindicated. Mitch knew better than to point out that he'd wanted him killed.

"So how're we-" Mitch started when the shrill ring of a phone interrupted him. Plucking it out of the centre console he glanced again at the screen. "David again. Think we should answer it?"

"Yes." Don answered, risking being told to 'shut up' again.

"No." Troy ordered. "They can wait."

"Why?" The agent demanded. "They know where you are. The sooner you start talking the sooner this is finished."

The question became moot as the phone stopped but Troy answered the point anyway. "I'll talk to them when I'm good and ready. We're the ones in charge, not them."

He'd barely started speaking before the phone rang again. It rang out then a few seconds later started up. It was clear David wasn't going to let it go.

"Alright." Troy suddenly said at the first ring. He'd made his point, besides which the phone was starting to annoy him. "Put him on first for a second so they hear his voice then give it to me."

Mitch again twisted and leant through the front seats so he could reach their hostage. He flipped the phone open before pressing it against Don's ear.

He hesitated a moment, not keen to meekly obey Troy's orders but decided any chance at contact with David was worth it. Knowing the exact nature of the situation also gave David the best chance at resolving it. "Eppes."

He had time to hear David's surprised, "Don!" before the phone was pulled away. He listened to half of the conversation that followed and noticed the lights from the following unit dim as it backed off in response to Troy's orders. It was still there but held position a lot further back. The conversation continued a little longer with Troy making his last demand that Don knew would not be complied with.

"Put the phone back to him." Troy suddenly said to Mitch. "Hey Fed, tell your friend to get the cops to back off."

Mitch once again leant back between the seats to hold the phone towards him having placed it into speaker mode. "David?"

"_Don! Are you alright?"_

"I've been better." Don admitted, forcing down a new swirl of nausea as his mind was distracted from controlling his body. His voice sounded rough as a result. "The sooner this is over the better."

"_We'll get you out Don."_ David reassured him. _"We've got-"_

"David!" Don started sharply in warning before the other agent could reveal something that might damage any plan he was working on. "I'm out of the loop. Troy's in charge here. Just get it done."

"_Understood. Put Troy back on."_

"You heard him?" Troy snapped, displeased that Don had revealed his name. Don didn't hear the other side of the conversation as the cell had been taken back out of speaker mode. "He's hurting and will hurt even more if you don't start doing as I say. … You got pull, you just proved it. So make them listen, you're the FBI. … Well don't take too long. The cops try anything and you'll hear back from him real quick and you won't like it."

…


	7. Chapter 7

**Numb3rs: Crash**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_**A/N:**__ Now for a little more whump…_

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

**-100-1111-1110- **

"Get in the back with him." Troy ordered after he'd hung up the phone.

"What?"

"They're gonna try something. I need you back where you can put a gun to his head when they do. When I want him hit you better be ready to do that too."

"Alright, alright. But if we hit him in the head he'll be sick again." Mitch warned.

"Then don't hit him in the head."

Don held his tongue during the exchange as the two men talked about him as if he wasn't even present. The whole rapport thing wasn't working as well as it should, but then he hadn't actually been with the men for very long either. It just felt like forever. He watched as Mitch clambered awkwardly back between the seats to take up position next to him, sitting in the middle seat where he could easily reach their captive. The robber quickly buckled himself in as Troy accelerated again, taking the increasingly tighter curves at a speed more than a little too fast for comfort as the road started to climb. It was a wasted effort; the pursuing unit would be able to take the bends with ease as from what the agent seen of the lights it had appeared to be a sedan with a far lower centre of gravity.

From the way the unit was sitting back he agreed with Troy, they were going to try something. Given the nature of the road he suspected there would be a road block somewhere up ahead probably once they'd done with the hills. After they were stopped it should be a simple matter to contain them. Then it would all come down to negotiation. While he was looking forward to the stop he was less keen on the negotiation, it was going to be painful for him, that much was certain. For all that Mitch had protested against Troy being violent towards the agent he seemed to be willing to do as he was told. A definite follower.

Nothing much changed over the next ten minutes or so, Mitch would keep shifting in his seat to look behind them, reporting that the unit was maintaining its position some distance back, visible as they went around the various bends as the road continued to climbing through some hills. The curves abruptly stopped as they reached some kind of plateau before starting again as they began descending. Troy was forced to slow somewhat as the tyres were beginning to sing a little as they started to loose traction. They had just reached the bottom and the road had been running almost straight for a few miles when things started to come to a head.

Abruptly Troy swore and the SUV swerved sharply, becoming dangerously unstable at their current speed. Another swerve and they straightened up. Don caught a glimpse of a car parked off the side of the road and understood what must have happened just as the robber explained it.

"Stop sticks." Troy reported. "And here they come. Get that gun ready."

The lights from behind became brighter. Trying to ignore the weapon that Mitch had taken from his lap and was now holding up he turned and saw that the pursuing unit had closed up on them. There were also two more sets of lights and a third just now pulling out from the shoulder. The units that had been holding back at the threat of harm to the hostage were now closing in. Something was about to happen.

Don tried to brace himself with his feet but the seatbelt still jerked at his bruised torso when Troy was forced to slam on the brakes. His view out the windscreen was mostly blocked by the seat in front of him, unable now to move his head as Mitch had put the Glock just above his ear. But he could see out to one side and that was enough. A sheriff's cruiser was parked across the road; there would be at least one more on the opposite side to completely block their path. He could see a man standing behind the roof and by his stance recognised that a weapon was pointed their way. There would be others.

Troy took a second or two to consider his next move before shoving the SUV into reverse. Stomping his foot down the wheels spun as he started to turn the vehicle around, expecting that the approaching units would be easier to get around. At least that's what Don thought Troy was thinking. By the time they were halfway through their two point turn the other units were already in place blocking off their escape route. The headlights from two sides lit them up like spotlights. They were trapped by the cars before and after them as well as the tall trees along either side of the road. Stopped sideways across the roadway it seemed they were out of options.

"This is Sheriff Cody. Step out of the vehicle with your hands up!" An authoritative male voice shouted from the original road block.

Troy lifted his gun, ensuring those outside could see it. He turned back to check on his partner. "Got the gun on him? Good." Ignoring the Sheriff's repeated demand he picked up Don's phone and held it up, his message clear.

It took a long minute or so but the cell finally rang.

"I warned you what would happen." Troy stated, putting the phone on speaker mode. He twisted in his seat holding the phone pointed towards the back of the SUV. He'd barely finished speaking before he jerked his head meaningfully towards Don.

There wasn't much Don could do to brace himself against the sudden punch to his side. He kept his response down to an almost silent gasp but the next one to his already unhappy stomach forced a groan from him and had him doubling up against the seatbelt until it jerked tight. Taking shallow breaths he managed to hold back the heaves that threatened and got himself back upright in time to receive another punch to his side. Through the speaker on the phone he could hear what sounded like a radio, the men's actions were being reported. David was already speaking.

"_Stop it!"_

"Tell him." Troy ordered waving the phone at Don.

"Nothing's changed, David." Don managed after coughing and dragging in a deeper breath so he could speak. He took another before he could continue, the cumulative effects of the earlier assault magnifying the latest round. Mitch also wasn't pulling any of his blows, the power behind his fists hampered only by the close quarters. As he'd feared, Mitch was only too willing to obey Troy's orders. "Do what you have to. Aargh!"

The last blow had come as he'd spoken, totally unprepared as the gun butt slammed into his chest. The muzzle returned quickly to grind against the side of his head.

"_We are not lifting the roadblock."_ David said firmly. _"Harm him further and it will just go harder on you."_

"Harder on him you mean." Troy said, giving another nod.

The gun butt slammed down again onto his chest again, the blow this time on an angle, dragging painfully downwards. Again he tried to bite back his response and almost succeeded, letting out a strangled moan as he curled forwards over the pain. He was really not up for more of this treatment but was going to do his best to lighten the load on David. The gun went under his chin, forcing him to sit upright, head tilted back.

"_Now is the time to talk."_ David insisted, trying not to respond directly to the continued assault on his fellow agent. Don understood the tactic; further outbursts by David would only feed their actions. _"Violence will not get you any further."_

"We haven't even started to get violent." Troy threatened. "We still got the guns. A few bullet holes and I'm sure you'll change your tune."

"_You fire a weapon and the officers will open fire."_ David responded immediately, his voice raised and hard. It was not a counter threat; it was a statement of fact. _"Everyone ends up dead. I don't think you want that."_

With a curse Troy hung up the call, tossing the cell back into the centre console. "This isn't working. We're outta here."

"How?" Mitch demanded, shifting to look at the roadblock.

With the gun removed from under his jaw and returned to the side of his head Don was able to follow the other man's glance at the cars surrounding them. The way they'd been going was solidly jammed; with the benefit of time to prepare the cars had been arranged in such a way that even ramming them would be unlikely to work. The four cars he could see from his new angle fitted together to create a strong wall of metal. It was not the same story back the other way Don realised. The other four cars had come to a stop quickly, arrayed across the road and the shoulder but not set in any particular fashion. There were weak points. Weak points Troy had also seen as he put the SUV into gear to continue the earlier aborted turn. Wheels spinning he aimed the heavy vehicle at a slight gap and accelerated as the tyres finally bit.

They hadn't gained a lot of speed but with their momentum it was enough, deputies running out of the way as the SUV hit two units parked at an angle and pushed both around far enough to widen the gap and allow them through. The SUV was through and away clean, scratched, dented and missing a headlight but through and accelerating. It would take a little while for the deputies to get it together enough to come after them. They had a clean break.

Putting the powerful engine to good use Troy kept his foot flat to the boards, working to gain as much of a lead as he could.

"Where are we going?" Mitch demanded. "There are gonna be more cops coming."

"I know that. I saw a turn off back a couple of miles, just near the bottom of the last hill. We get to that and we'll lose them."

Not long after Troy started slowing, getting ready to make the turn as soon as he spotted it. It was right about that point that a new set of headlights appeared in front of them, the gap closing quickly enough to indicate that the new vehicle was travelling significantly above the speed limit. The headlights were almost on them as Troy slammed on the brakes to make his turn. They started to slide out, slewing sideways. Don caught a glimpse of flashing red and blue lights and an impression of a dark sedan as the other vehicle swerved and ran off the road to avoid the sliding SUV.

As they hurtled down the dirt road Don craned his head back to see if the vehicle was following. Whether or not it was David and Colby's car or another sheriff's unit of some kind he hadn't been able to tell. He'd already noted the two different markings on the cars back at the roadblock. It was difficult to see through the dust they were kicking up but after a mile or so he thought he could detect a glow of light some distance behind them. The dust would only aid in tracking the SUV.

The constantly ringing cell phone was ignored.

**-100-1-10110-1001-100- **

They were close but not close enough despite Grealy pushing his SUV to the limit. Increasingly frustrated David again thumbed the green call button on his cell. Since hearing of the SUV's escape from the roadblock he'd been calling constantly. It had almost been as some sort of relief when Troy had disconnected the call and the deputies at the roadblock reported that the abuse of their hostage had stopped. That negotiation had been rapidly going downhill, spiralling out of control. The consolation now was that with the pressure on they would be certain to keep Don alive and, in the midst of a pursuit, were unable to harm him further.

They had reached the bottom of the hill, Grealy reporting that the site of the roadblock was not too many miles ahead. Abruptly the older man stood on his brakes, swerving as their speed dropped away. The swerve became a turn as he started back the way they'd just come.

"What did you see?" David demanded.

"Look." Grealy pointed out the windscreen at a set of skid marks as they pulled up, headlights illuminating the marks. "They weren't here yesterday. Look fresh."

David could hear sirens approaching; the pursuit wasn't far behind them. Listening to the calls on the radio they both knew that the sheriff's cruisers had yet to spot the fleeing SUV. It also hadn't passed them and the sirens were too close. Grealy had to be right, there was nowhere else the SUV could have gone. "Go!"

Not waiting for the agent's direction Grealy was already in motion, calling it in as he took the turn onto the dirt road. Within moments lights appeared behind them as the pursuit followed. In about the same timeframe dust starting appearing in their spotlights, dust that slowly thickened.

"We're catching up."

They may have been catching up but the cruisers behind them were dropping back, forced to slow as the road got rougher. There were advantages to being in a SUV. But that also meant it would be just them for the precious first few moments when they caught up with the fugitives and their hostage. He would need both hands free and seeing as how his attempts to make contact were continually failing he shifted carefully in the bouncing vehicle and was finally able to slide his cell into his pocket. He'd only just braced himself again, one hand on the dash and the other on the grab handle above the door when his cell started to ring. Automatically he let go to dig the phone out just as Grealy once again hit the brakes, sliding to a stop in a cloud of dust. Struggling against the restriction of the locked seatbelt he got the phone out and up to his ear as they started backing up. He realised what had happened as he announced himself to the caller, they'd just passed a turnoff and the dust had abruptly disappeared, they needed to take the turn to keep on the trail.

"_It's me."_ Colby reported, his voice hushed.

"Where are you?"

"_Not sure, some dirt road. I saw them before I got to the roadblock and they turned down here."_ Colby spelt out quickly.

"I think we're right behind you."

"_I can hear the sirens. Slow down, my car's in the road."_ Colby warned. _"I've found them."_

"Where? What's happening?" For a moment David considered ordering Grealy to have the pursuing cars run silently, Colby was clearly trying to keep his head down. As his partner started to answer he decided against it, the extra noise heading in would serve to distract the fugitives and provide the lone agent with cover.

"_They've run off the road and crashed in a ditch. Looks like they hit a horse."_

"Can you see them? How's Don?"

"_I've already checked it out, the truck's empty. They've headed into the forest and have taken him with them. I can make out a bit of a trail. They're probably not all that far away. I'm going to follow."_

David's control slipped and he swore. They'd gone from having the situation contained in a car at a roadblock to three men loose on foot in a forest at the base of a series of hills. "No! Stay there; we've got everyone following us. We'll mount a search once we're all there."

He dialled a new number, answered almost instantly by the ADIC. David provided an update on their current location and status. The helicopter promised by the ADIC was already on the way, arrival timed for daylight so it would be immediately able to join in the hunt.

…


	8. Chapter 8

**Numb3rs: Crash**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_**A/N:**__ Okay, time to ramp things up again…_

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

**-100-1111-1110- **

Troy didn't even have time to curse. There was a heavy impact which threw all three of them forward against their seatbelts. Don caught a glimpse of something large and black that disappeared to one side. The vehicle suddenly careened off the road and into the brush, totally out of control. They bounced several times and glanced off more than one tree until the front dipped suddenly. An instant later they stopped with an impact hard enough to set off the airbags, giving Troy some protection from the steering wheel. The ballistic vest provided another level of protection.

For a few moments there was no movement as each of the three men struggled to regain their senses. Don became aware first of a loud hissing and then a ticking noise that took him only a second or so to recognise as the stalled engine cooling. Getting his eyes open and looking through the cracked windshield he could make out clouds of steam rising from the front of the vehicle. It was the end of the line for his SUV.

Next he became aware of pain across his chest from the seatbelt adding to his other hurts. Not that he would complain about his seatbelt doing its job and keeping him from more serious injury. Taking a quick stock of himself he confirmed that he'd sustained no other damage from the crash.

There was still no movement from Mitch but Troy was beginning to stir, if he was going to take advantage of this opportunity he had to do it now. The cant of the vehicle to one side along with the downwards angle all worked in his favour as he was hanging against the door by the seatbelt. Twisting painfully he got his cuffed hands onto the release and pressed. Falling forwards and against the door things were a little harder now as he twisted and felt around for the door handle. Finally he found the lever and pulled hoping that the vehicle body had remained straight enough for the door not to have jammed in its frame although his bodyweight on the door should help. His luck held, the door sprang open dumping him quickly onto the forest floor. In his need to get away he barely felt the impact, rolling and forcing himself to his feet without delay. There was no time to get any real sense of where he was, he simply clambered out of the ditch and started moving away from the wreckage of his SUV at a tangent. He had to stay clear of the road, at least for the moment, it would be the first place the two robbers would look for him.

He'd stumbled only a few yards before it became obvious he'd been too slow in his escape attempt. The first shot spurred him to more speed as a shouted command reached his ears.

"Stop right there, Fed!"

Troy sounded close and distinctly unhappy. Forcing himself to keep moving Don desperately tried to create some distance and put some trees between him and the gun. This section of forest was relatively sparse making that harder than he'd wished. With his hands trapped behind him it was difficult to make any sort of speed and yet keep his balance on the uneven ground as he tried to reach a tree with sufficient bulk to provide some protection. Hearing the sounds of movement behind him he knew he wasn't outrunning the two men, they were rapidly gaining on him. Determined, he kept going. The next bullet sent chips of bark flying back into his face as it struck the tree just ahead of him.

"The next one goes into your back!" Troy threatened.

Forced to stop Don leaned against the tree in defeat, refusing to turn. A moment later there were hands on his shoulders, shoving him forward. Unsure whether it was an instruction to continue moving now that his captors had reached him or a punishment he struggled to recover his balance but failed, landing sprawling on the ground. The quick kick to his side was not unexpected.

"Get up!"

Knowing that time was now on his side Don stayed down. At least that's what he told himself, the fact that resting on the ground really appealed to him right about then didn't enter in to it. About the only parts of him that didn't hurt were his legs.

"You _want_ me to kill you?"

Now Don twisted so he could see the man standing over him. The flash of light from the approaching vehicle's headlights through the trees was also noted by the robber. Mitch, standing a few paces away having just reached them, reacted, turning and bringing his gun up as they heard the car slide to a stop on the dirt road a little over fifty yards away. The nearness of the pursuit gave weight to Don's argument, "Need me."

"You or him." Troy pointed out, his weapon flicking back towards the new arrival before returning to the prone man. Don now saw the rifle slung over his shoulder. "Move or die."

Those were counter-arguments that Don couldn't win. He didn't want another to be taken in his place just as he didn't want to die tonight. It took him two unassisted attempts but he got himself upright just as he heard a car door open. Troy gave him another shove almost undoing Don's efforts. If it hadn't been for Mitch moving in quickly and taking his upper right arm in his grip he would have gone back down.

"Keep it quiet!" Troy ordered as they quickly headed deeper into the trees much to Don's relief. He'd considered it a strong possibility that they would turn back to try to hijack the other vehicle. That Troy was more inclined to try to escape on foot was something he could live with.

He glanced back before they'd moved too far to catch a glimpse of someone cautiously approaching the SUV. He could see fairly clearly with his dark adjusted sight, aided by the lights silhouetting everything. From the officer's perspective the fugitives would be totally concealed in the darkness leaving him at a disadvantage. Seeing that the officer was alone Don didn't try to call out or attract his attention as that would put the man in more danger.

Don lost track of how long they pushed on, his concentration on keeping to his feet almost absolute. He gradually became aware however that he could see further ahead of them. A glance upwards revealed why, the lightening sky indicating that dawn was finally approaching. His feet tangled due to his distraction and it was only Mitch's firm grip on his arm that enabled him to keep to his feet. His stumble earned him a sharp jerk once he was back on track, a warning to pay attention.

A few minutes later Troy came to a sudden halt. Holding up his finger for silence he moved a few yards back the way they'd come clearly listening for sounds of pursuit. Also keen to know how far away rescue was Don listened as well. They'd been moving uphill through thicker trees for the last ten minutes or so and looking down now he caught glimpses of flashlights moving below them. They were close, the pursuing officers making better time through the darker, heavier forest on the western side of the hill with their flashlights than the fugitives could without light.

"Go!" Troy urged, keeping his voice down.

Mitch responded, tugging at the agent's arm. Don moved even as he was trying to work on a strategy to slow the robbers down that hopefully wouldn't end with getting himself shot. An opportunity presented itself a few hundred yards further on as the hill levelled out. Working their way through an even thicker line of trees concealing a small ditch Mitch jerked at his arm as he tripped over a tree root. Unbalanced through no fault of his own Don fell, landing heavily. Working with what he'd been given Don allowed a loud grunt to escape his lips as his abused body hit the ground. He followed that up with a loud moan, not all of which was faked.

"Shut it!" Troy immediately hissed, spinning and raising his gun. He turned to where Mitch had caught his own balance against a tree and was now rubbing at his ankle. "Get him up."

"We'll move quicker if we leave him." Mitch's voice was also low.

"Not with them just back there. Quickly!" Troy urged before adding, "I think there's a road up ahead."

"A car?" Mitch asked hopefully.

"If we get there." Troy pointed out.

"Alright, alright."

Don for his part had once again made no effort to get up, staying put. His bare plan simply consisted of trying to appear more injured than he really was. Mitch's rubbing at his ankle had given him an idea. Unable to grab at his own ankle with his cuffed hands he instead brought his right foot up and rolled partly forwards as if he were protecting an injured limb.

"What's your problem?" Troy demanded when he noticed, pushing past his partner to get to the agent first.

Don got his mouth open, ready with his lie when the robber bent to press the gun hard against his forehead.

"I don't want to hear it. Get up or I'll put you down like a wounded dog." Troy's low voice was intense; he was in no mood for any further delays and was sure his hostage was faking it. Frustrated and angry that having a hostage was not working for them as it should he was coming to the point that maybe he would be better off killing the fed. It would let him take out some of his frustration if nothing else. "And don't tell me I need you." He added dangerously.

With the pressure of the gun against his head Don decided he'd pushed it far enough. Unable to move due to the threat he opened his mouth again, this time to give Troy what he wanted. "I'll get up."

"I thought so. Next time you take a dive I won't give you the option."

Don met the angry man's gaze, the rapidly brightening early morning light enabling him to see that Troy was deadly serious. His assailant was now constantly angry and getting increasingly desperate. He knew he was in imminent danger; it was more than clear that his chances were used up. After another moment Troy backed off, waving Mitch in. Without any other choice Don cooperated as he had earlier in the evening, getting his feet under him and pushing up as Mitch pulled.

"Not smart." Mitch commented.

Holding his own counsel Don allowed himself to be propelled along, Troy trying to make up for the time that Don's delay had caused them. He'd bought some time and even if it ended up being reduced to a few seconds, those seconds could make all the difference when it came down to the crunch.

A few minutes later he saw that Troy had been right as they stumbled out onto a dirt road. Whether or not it was the same one they'd been on earlier when they crashed Don didn't have a clue, not that it really mattered. From the looks of the road surface it was well travelled meaning that the odds of a car passing them were unfortunately quite reasonable. Stopping for a moment Troy looked first to the left and then to the right as if trying to assess which direction they should try. He picked left and they headed off after first crossing to the opposite side of the road and moving a short distance into the lighter brush where they would be somewhat concealed.

Troy's decision had been right on the money, almost immediately they could hear the sounds of an approaching vehicle. Stopping, Troy shoved the Glock into his waistband before he unshouldered the rifle.

"Now we get a car." He explained unnecessarily with a tone of satisfaction. He felt confident the rifle would get them what they wanted. If not he had a second option up his sleeve. "Get ready, if they won't stop for this they'll stop for him. Up for a game of chicken, Fed?"

Adding that to the list of things he didn't like the sound of this evening there was nothing he could do as Mitch pushed him closer to the road. Clearly when the car arrived he was going to be pushed out in front of it, his only consolation was that Mitch and Troy would be standing out there with him. If he got collected then they would most likely also be hit.

The car suddenly appeared around the bend ahead of them, far too close and coming far too fast for Don's liking as he was shoved out. As the car kept coming he decided that the consolation he'd grasped at wasn't enough. He'd stood in front of speeding cars before but then it had been different, then he'd had a gun in his hand and the ability to leap out of the way if he needed to. That was not the case now. Helplessly squinting against the headlights he saw the driver finally react, braking hard enough to start to skid on the loose surface. Troy grinned and levelled the rifle. Even though it was now definitely light enough to see the high beams flicked on before the car suddenly accelerated and swerved as the driver realised what was waiting for him. Mitch shoved Don further sideways into the new path of the vehicle. Desperately Don tried to push back against Mitch's hold, the car was too close.

A moment later Don found himself face down on the dusty roadway, lower right ribs stinging along with his hip and thigh. That changed to sharp stabbing pain in his side on his next indrawn breath. Forced to cough on the dust he curled up as the pain worsened. Clamping his mouth closed he stopped breathing even as his body continued trying to cough. Despite the pain he persisted with holding his breath until finally the spasms stopped, the quickest way he could think of to reduce the irritation in his lungs. He was able to finally take a cautious breath after turning his head away from the dust. It took another moment but he figured out what had happened. The swerving car had clipped him with its front guard and side mirror while still travelling at a decent speed. Based on the pain he was now feeling he suspected that aside from painful bruising to his hip and thigh he'd possibly ended up with a few cracked ribs at best, even if he had to accept that they were most likely broken. If there were any new bruises from hitting the road he didn't notice them.

Dimly he heard voices shouting in the distance. Not able to make out the words he paid them little attention as he remained curled on his side on the road. The hand on his arm trying to pull him up he did respond to. Without the purchase to pull his arm away all he could do was go limp, unwilling to cooperate this time as it would only cause him more pain. He was not taking a dive, he really was hurt and in trouble if the constant stabbing in his side was an indicator. His captors were having none of that, another hand grabbed at him and he was pulled up to his knees. He bent sideways over his ribs even as the muzzle of the rifle came to rest barely noticed on his shoulder.

…


	9. Chapter 9

**Numb3rs: Crash**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

_**A/N:**__ the cavalry arrives…_

**CHAPTER NINE**

**-100-1-10110-1001-100- **

"Shh!" Colby suddenly stopped, holding up his hand.

"What?" David hissed as the entire group pulled up short.

They had been following the trail through the forest for nearly an hour. Before leaving the crash site they'd searched wreckage of the SUV finding Don's phone in the process, they would not be able to track them via the phone. Fortunately Colby and a couple of the deputies seemed well acquainted with following a trail picking out a path for them to follow, swapping the lead to remain fresh. Now as the sky lightened and visibility improved they were making better time. He was still counting down the minutes until daylight and the arrival of the helicopter to make the search a whole lot easier. He had a second use for the helicopter once the fugitives were found, one that daylight was essential for.

Colby held up his hand in an emphatic stop gesture. David noted that at least one of the other deputies was also listening closely to something ahead. Colby and the deputy stared at each other as they listened before finally nodding.

Keeping his voice low Colby clicked off his flashlight. "They're just ahead."

Almost as one all the flashlights were turned off. Momentarily blinded by the absence of the bright lights David heard movement as officers automatically adjusted their positions in case they were already being targeted. They'd risked the lights amongst the thickening trees as it enabled them to move quicker and would help to keep the pressure on the fugitives. Now that they'd almost reached their targets the flashlights became a liability. A few seconds later he'd regained his vision, the brightening sky providing more light than he'd expected. They waited as the two sheriffs consulted, finally splitting the group into three, one party to go left, the other right and the last to continue following directly on the trail. Finally moving again they concentrated on making their own approach soundless. David found himself frustrated yet again; they were so close but forced to take their time.

David and Colby were in the middle group tasked to follow the fugitives trail and soon came across a disturbed area of ground that even David could recognise. Colby crouched and ran his hand over the area a few inches above the ground, something David had seen Ian Edgerton do.

"Someone fell here."

"Don?"

"Can't tell." Colby reported. He pointed. "They went this way."

Following the path David glanced to either side, just able to spot the other two teams parallelling them through the trees. They were positioned ready to move ahead and then come back from the sides once they'd reached the fugitives, instantly surrounding them and cutting them off from any other avenues of escape. Suddenly they reached an unmade roadway, the dirt ribbon cutting across the forest along the top of the wide ridge.

Now Colby was challenged, crouching yet again to inspect the roadway, looking for the barest of scrapes to indicate direction. Finally he found what he was looking for and followed the marks across to the far side. Here the signs were again easier to find, the fugitives making his job a little easier by choosing to move through the forest rather than along the road. On this side of the ridge the trees again thinned, it was just the brush close to the side of the road that remained thick. After brief conference with the entire group back together again they headed off, split into two groups now. Their group was to follow the track, the same makeup as before with the same task, they would follow the trail and commence any negotiation. The other group was to run parallel to them, deeper into the forest ready to fan out and surround the fugitives when they reached them.

David turned to the locals. "Where's this road go?"

Sheriff Cody's deputy fielded the question. He looked worried. "Up that way are about a half dozen houses, back that way is the highway. Most of those folks work back in the towns and will be heading through here shortly."

David was also concerned that the path they were following was leading up towards the houses. They needed to stop the fugitives before they could either reach a house where they would be able to barricade themselves in and take more hostages or flag down as car as the deputy was suspecting. Glancing upwards once again he still had no sign of the promised helicopter. The noise of an approaching car had them all moving out towards the edge of the road. This could bring things to a head.

Looking up along the road they saw three figures suddenly step out from the concealing brush. Almost at the same time a speeding car appeared at the bend, rapidly approaching the three who were facing away from them. There was plenty enough light now for David to recognise Don and see that his hands were restrained behind him. Colby glanced over at him and he nodded to show he'd recognised their boss. The two agents also recognised the matching dark sleeveless jackets worn by the fugitives as ballistic vests. Moving quickly they drew their weapons before starting to openly approach the group even if they didn't yet attempt to attract the fugitives' attention. That would best wait until they were a little closer.

They then froze and looked on in horror as the three stood their ground in front of the car before seeing the vehicle swerve as a resisting Don was pushed in front of its new path. There was a horrible thud and Don went spinning, falling hard to the road. The stricken agent seemed to curl up and convulse before he stopped moving altogether.

"Don!" David and Colby shouted simultaneously as the car flashed by without stopping.

They started running, determined to reach their boss and see how badly injured he'd been. Sheriff Grealy was a little more controlled, calling out to their backup as he and the deputy followed the two agents. The second group had remained in the trees and now started moving quickly forwards, remaining concealed until ready to reveal themselves.

"Sheriff's Department, drop your weapons!" Grealy shouted.

They saw the two standing fugitives react, spinning to see the approaching agents and officers. One reached down and tried to pull Don up. The other joined in and an instant later the wounded agent was kneeling seemingly barely conscious between the two men, a rifle barrel resting against one shoulder, a Glock pistol against the other side of his head.

Brought up short by the obvious threat David and Colby stopped, joined moments later by Grealy and the deputy. They kept their weapons aimed at the fugitives. There was a brief silent standoff as David watched their second group come out onto the roadway behind the fugitives, cutting them off. A single man was sent running back to the corner, obviously to flag down and stop any other approaching vehicles before it could plough into the lot of them. Reminded of the danger of conducting this on a road, Grealy sent their deputy back to do the same thing behind them.

The two fugitives looked around as they were surrounded, their grips on both their weapons and their hostage firming. Don seemed to recover slightly, raising his head and also starting to look around.

About to make a move David suddenly heard a welcome sound, a helicopter coming from the direction of the highway behind them. Reminded of the bigger picture he got his thoughts in order. The second use for the helicopter was about to become its primary use. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his notebook where he'd written the contact number for the pilot.

"Colby, call the helo, get them up here." David ordered as he shoved his notebook at his partner. He squared his shoulders and slowly started moving forward, intending to recommence the failed negotiation.

"Back off!" The older fugitive with the rifle ordered as David closed in.

David recognised the voice as Troy's as he slowed but maintained his approach. "I'm Special Agent David Sinclair, Troy. We've spoken on the phone." David started.

"I mean it!" Troy pressed his rifle firmly against Don's shoulder, shoving the injured agent in the process.

David stopped as he heard Don gasp in pain and saw his face pale before his head dropped. Holding up his right hand he found that the Glock in his left was still aimed automatically centre mass at Troy's body. He adjusted his aim to a trajectory that would be more effective, his gun now pointing at Troy's head. That the two men were wearing the vests would make things a lot trickier and explained why they hadn't forced Don to his feet to hold in front of them, they were already shielded.

Taking his time David looked his boss over. Don's head was still down and he was leaning to one side as he'd noted earlier, his breath coming in shallow gasps audible to David from ten yards away. That probably meant injured ribs at the very least from being hit by the car. His clothes were dusty and covered in more dirt than the tumble to the roadway would account for. David already knew he'd been beaten in the car at the roadblock, but this suggested there'd been more earlier, probably when they'd first taken him. Added to that was the crash of the SUV and David could only conclude that Don was seriously hurt. He needed to wrap this up quickly, for Don's sake.

"Don?" David queried, ignoring Troy for the moment. He needed to get a read on just how bad Don really was.

The head lifted and now David could see the damage there, a developing black left eye, a bruised cheekbone and a large lump on his forehead. Don's eyes cleared and recognised his agent. "David."

"Just a little longer, Don." David tried to reassure him as the sound of the helicopter drew nearer.

"Not … too long."

David was relieved slightly by his boss' response. Don's voice was not as strong as usual but his boss was aware and helping to keep himself upright. He had a little time up his sleeve; the time had not yet come for desperate action based on Don's medical condition alone. But Don was clearly in pain and he couldn't let this drag out too long.

"Uh-uh, Fed." Troy interrupted, giving Don another jab with the rifle. He stared at David. "He's going nowhere unless you give us a way out of here."

The sound of the helicopter was suddenly loud as it made a low pass over the road to assess the situation. David heard it move away before starting to climb and circle back. His cell rang and he answered it to hear Colby deliver a surprising piece of news, the call a private way to get the necessary tactical information across. There'd been a last minute substitution. He looked up at the approaching machine, brightly lit by the yellow early morning sunlight that had yet to reach the road. He could make out a man leaning out the door, the sunlight glinting off the barrel of a rifle. He could also see a glint of sunlight on glass, the binoculars of a spotter. The helicopter stopped and hovered far enough away that the noise was not an impediment to the negotiation. The distance would be no difficulty for the sniper.

David returned his attention to the fugitives, his job easier now. "I'll give you two. Surrender now and live."

Troy gaped at him for a moment not having expected that. He frowned. "You said two."

"Push this further and die." David pointed back at the helicopter with his right hand, careful how he did so. "That's Special Agent Edgerton up there with a rifle. One of the best snipers in the country. He's also a good friend of Agent Eppes and not too happy about what you've done to him." He saw Don relax slightly at the news. Troy and the second younger man suddenly looked very nervous, exactly what David had intended with his blunt speech.

Looking down at his hostage briefly Troy was even more worried at the way the injured fed had reacted to Sinclair's words. "I don't like that."

David could have almost laughed at the absurdity of that. "That's all you're getting."

"We're getting a car or I'll kill him." Troy threatened, meaning every word. He was supposed to be the one in control, he had the hostage.

"No, you won't. Him breathing is the only thing keeping you alive right now."

"Then get us a car." Troy repeated. He jerked his head upwards before staring back at the agent facing him. "Or the chopper, I don't care which."

David shook his head, readying himself to give the signal Colby had described for Edgerton to take the shot. Based on the way the last negotiation had gone and the way things were going now he feared he was going to have to take that option. The realisation of how close he was standing to the sniper's target struck him but with the sniper being Edgerton he wasn't as worried as he otherwise may have been.

Remembering that Colby had said the sniper would go for the man with the rifle first, he slowly swung his one handed aim towards the second man. The sheriff had earlier provided the man's name as Mitchell someone-or-other. Mitchell's gun hand dropped slightly at the threat, his stolen weapon no longer pointing directly at Don's head. His nervous gaze shifted rapidly between David and Troy. It seemed he was less adamant about the standoff than his partner was.

"Not going to happen. I've given you your choices. That's it."

"That's against the rules." Troy complained at David's stubborn refusal, his hand shifting on the rifle. "You're supposed to negotiate, give us what we want. If you don't I've got nothing left to lose."

David had almost given the signal; the movement of the man's fingers so near the trigger had almost forced his hand. It had been close but he had to give the man one last chance. "You've shown no regard for Agent Eppes, assaulting him and just now getting him hit by that car. You've blocked any other option we might have had. This ends here, now. One way or the other."

"Then this ends with him dead!" Troy suddenly shouted.

David's hand flashed out but Troy was already falling back, long before the sound of the shot reached his ears. The reaction was far too quick for the spotter to have communicated David's signal to Edgerton. The experienced sniper must have seen Troy's face contort in rage down his scope and known what was about to happen. Recovering quickly David firmed his aim at Mitchell, finger curling on the trigger as he prepared to fire.

"Don't shoot!"

…


	10. Chapter 10

**Numb3rs: Crash**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs and its characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Original characters and the storyline are mine however._

**CHAPTER TEN**

**-100-1-10110-1001-100- **

It was close but David managed not to pull his trigger. Mitchell shifted slightly, gun now pointing away from Don but not quite far enough.

"Don't shoot!" He repeated.

"Put the gun down and step away." David ordered as he sensed Colby come up beside him.

Eyes flicking nervously between the two agents, before shifting to the other officers and then up at the hovering helicopter Mitchell seemed to come to a decision. His hands came up, one still holding the stolen Glock but it was pointed harmlessly off into the trees. "Don't shoot."

Colby moved forward another aggressive pace, his Springfield raised and steady. "Drop the gun. Now!"

Mitchell's Glock suddenly tumbled from his fingers as he finally moved, taking a long step away from his hostage. Colby moved in, closing the gap with David about to follow. That all changed an instant later, without the support of his captor Don suddenly tilted alarmingly sideways before overbalancing and falling. David left Colby to the arrest as he lunged forwards in an effort to catch his boss. He was too late, Don landing on his side, eyes closing.

"Don!"

David was momentarily distracted by the sound of another body falling. Glancing over he saw that Colby was taking no chances, shoving Mitchell to the ground to control him. He saw deputies running in and turned back to his boss, everything else was under control.

Don lay still, eyes closed and didn't respond to David's gentle squeeze at his shoulder or the repetition of his name.

"Get the EMTs out here!" David yelled without looking up.

"They're on their way, Agent." Grealy responded quickly. "I'll give them our new location."

David remembered that the sheriff had called for an ambulance to be sent to their general area back at the crash scene. They'd all had a fair idea it was going to be needed. Without acknowledging the response he kept his attention on Don, trying to ease him into a stable position. That's when he saw what was restraining his hands; the flex-cuffs were not something he was going to be able to unlock with his key. A hand suddenly appeared in front of him holding a multi-tool.

"Here." Grealy offered.

Taking the tool David flicked out the pliers and was able to wedge the jaw between the plastic and Don's wrist so he could use the wire cutter to snip through the tough tie. A quick repeat on the other wrist and Don was finally free. With gentle movements David got Don settled into the side stable position touted by all the first aid courses. He knew that Don was lying on his injured side but didn't try to change that, he remembered from those same courses that it was often best with certain chest injuries to let the victim chose their own position and that it was usually injured side down. Whatever it was it seemed to be working, Don's colour improved and his breathing was steady.

"David, how is he?" Colby's tight voice demanded.

Looking up he saw his partner had secured the other offender and was handing him off to the locals. Another couple of deputies were fussing over Troy's body, the rifle and Glock recovered and cleared.

"He's out." David answered. "Ribs, head. I don't know what else. Where's that EMT?"

"He's coming, Agent." Grealy reassured. "He's coming."

David's cell rang. Automatically answering the call it took a moment to identify the terse voice.

"_How's Eppes?"_ Edgerton demanded, voice raised over the noise of the helicopter.

"He's alive, but hurt. EMTs are on their way."

"_I'll get the pilot to land. We'll take him in."_

**-100-1111-1110- **

He'd been here often enough to recognise where he was almost before he was fully conscious. Resting back on the surface that was not quite as comfortable as his own bed or the couch at Charlie's, Don enjoyed the lack of pain. He ached dully over most of his body and his head was throbbing but the sharp stabbing pain in his side had gone. Don remained still, recognising that some of that pain would return if he tried to move. There were quiet voices that he couldn't focus on well enough to understand but he didn't really care. He drifted back off, lulled by the sounds.

The next time he woke it was as if he'd had a long sleep. He still ached and he was reluctant to move after a brief automatic stretch but felt remarkably rested. Unable to help it he stretched again, his entire upper body was stiff and he needed to loosen up knowing it would be worse if he didn't. A half-caught breath escaped him as pain from his ribs stabbed at him.

"Don?"

"Hey, Dad."

"Just relax son, you're going to be fine."

"Yeah." Don dragged his eyes open and looked around to find his father standing beside him. It explained the dry warmth he'd felt around his right hand. As he noted it his father released him after a momentary squeeze, aware of how he felt about close personal contact especially in public.

"You're back in LA, in hospital." Alan explained.

"Figured that." Don replied wryly. It was kind of obvious. His smile took any sting out of his words. A glance at the clock on the wall showed it was mid-morning. Based on how he felt it had to be the next day.

Alan looked over suddenly at movement at the doorway. "Oh, hey. Your wiseass brother's awake."

Don followed his father's gaze to find Charlie walking in. The aroma from the coffee cups in his hands was pure heaven. "You got one of those for me?"

"Now Don, I don't think the doctors would approve." Alan said as Charlie approached.

"The Doctor's not here." Don found the remote and got the bed to start rising so he could sit up a little. Some coffee would do him a world of good. "C'mon Chuck."

"No can do, Bro'." The worry that Don had seen on Charlie's face in that first instant was long gone. His brother made a show of sipping at his own coffee as he handed the other off to their father. "Seriously, are you okay?"

"You tell me. I just woke up."

"I think your brother's going to be fine." Alan said in response. If his eldest son was able to joke around and demand coffee then he really was going to be okay.

"Who's the doctor around here?" A pleasant female voice inquired from the door. A woman wearing the regulation white coat and stethoscope that identified her calling walked in, reaching for the chart as she stopped at the foot of the bed. "I'm Doctor June Blackmore. I see you are a frequent flyer, Agent Eppes."

That got Don a little on guard, not all of those visits were known by his family, although the last had been a good one. "Er, yeah, I guess. What's the tally this time?"

"Well, let's see. You have some lacerations and bruising around both wrists, they tell me you were bound with flex-cuffs." Receiving a nod she continued. "There is also some soft tissue damage, along with various contusions and abrasions to most of your upper torso that look like you took a beating or two judging by the different ages of the bruising. We also have a seatbelt mark and some other deep bruising on your chest from an unknown foreign object, care to elaborate?"

It was going to come out anyway, if it hadn't already. "Gun butt."

"That would do it." The doctor nodded. She finished checking the chart and hung it back over the end of the bed after adding a notation. Blackmore tilted her head slightly to one side as she continued with the list. "We can also add deep bruising down most of your right side and two broken ribs but fortunately no complications there. They told me something about a car?"

"Yeah. I was shoved in front of one. It didn't stop." Don didn't blame the driver for that. Considering the circumstances, the driver not stopping had been the most correct thing to do. It had hardly been their fault anyway. Although, he added wistfully to himself, the driver could maybe have swerved a little further to the side.

"Hmm. Then we have some heavy blows to the head, a concussion and a laceration there as well to round things out." The doctor waited.

After another glance at his closely listening family Don elaborated. "Ground, fists and gun again."

"You were in the wars, weren't you?" Doctor Blackmore said, taking it all in stride. But then, she'd obviously read his history and knew such things weren't all that unusual for him. Don found himself liking her even if he'd never dealt with her before.

"Something like that."

"Well. It was starting to accumulate into something a bit more serious with the delay in treatment and escalation of injuries but now that you're here it's nothing that some time and rest won't mend. We'll keep you in for a couple of more days and after that we'll see." She glanced over at the door. "You have some visitors waiting; we'd been expecting you to wake about now. They've insisted that you would want to see them. Feel up to it?"

Knowing who they were he wanted to see them too. He was fully awake and the pain meds were keeping his headache at a manageable level. The rest would be fine if he didn't move too much or breathe too deeply. "Sure."

David and Colby wasted no time coming in, both with their own cups of coffee in hand. His mouth started watering at the aroma but still no-one offered him any. He had a fair idea where some of his headache was coming from, caffeine withdrawal. It had been some time since that nasty cup of instant. He lost his train of thought on that as David and Colby both started speaking. It was a few minutes before he was able to ask how it had all ended; he was somewhat fuzzy on the details. He remembered David and Colby appearing on the road and then the ultimatum given to Troy but nothing after that.

"Troy Walden is dead. Sniper shot." David announced bluntly. "Mitchell Harris is in custody."

"Who were they?" Towards the end he'd been starting to doubt his earlier assessment that they weren't the murderers they were up there hunting.

David saw the real question but asked one of his own first. "What'd they tell you?"

"That they were two-bit robbers. Gas stations, that sort of thing."

The relief supervisor nodded. "That's exactly what they were. They'd been in the area for a few weeks, knocking over gas stations and some small ma and pa stores. Sheriff Grealy has made some inquiries since and it seems they'd been in the business for a couple of months a little further north, doing the odd job before moving on. A few weeks ago they seemed to have decided to make a career of it, going on the road and going from robbery to robbery. They'd always used some violence but things were starting to ramp up fairly quickly, the victims sustaining more injuries when they went full-time. We're thinking they were about to take things to the next level."

Thinking quickly on it Don came to the same conclusion, from what David was saying there was a clear pattern of escalation. Even in his isolated case things had gone bad to worse as they had no problems with physically abusing him in an attempt to get what they wanted. At the end it was clear that they were prepared to take that final step. He found himself reconsidering the last point; Troy was certainly prepared to kill whilst Mitch was not quite there, yet. Unfortunately Don felt reasonably sure that given enough time Mitch would have followed Troy's lead all the way.

"What about the case?" He wasn't asking about the robbers, that was done, all bar his statement which he would give later. He needed to be brought up to speed on the investigation. There were murderers to catch.

Alan opened his mouth to protest but another voice interrupted him.

"Been working on that while you've been napping, Eppes." Edgerton answered as he strode in through the doorway. He moved straight through the group surrounding the bed until he was standing next to Don. "Here, thought you might like this."

Ignoring the twinge of his muscles Don eagerly took the offered paper cup. A long sip and he was feeling infinitely better. "Thanks, Ian. And, _thank-you_."

The sniper grinned. "Always fun working with you and your boys, Eppes." He took a sip of his own coffee as he finally acknowledged everyone else. "That shot was not as much of a challenge as I'm used to, but I make do."

"Well, challenging or not I appreciate your making do."

"No problem, Eppes." Edgerton inclined his head as he accepted the thanks. He got down to business. "Now your other crew, they _are_ going to be a challenge."

He wasn't going to bother asking who had called Edgerton in; he'd probably just heard about the case and called himself in. Putting that aside Don remained on track and asked how the investigation was going.

"Still early days yet. I've worked the two dump sites but haven't come up with anything yet. Waiting on some of your brother's math-voodoo to get things rolling."

Charlie looked up at the reference, a slight smile crossing his face before he became serious. "I've not got very far on that, the two data-sets not enough to give me the numbers I need." The expression on his face showed that he understood just where those data-sets came from and what it meant if there were any more.

"We understand, Charlie." David spoke up. "Whatever you can give us."

"I know, David. I've got a few ideas I'm working on." He patted at the laptop bag hanging over his shoulder. Don figured he'd been working on it while waiting for him to rejoin the land of the living. He'd come a long way over the last five years, no longer escaping into useless math when stressed. "One of those is going to involve an inverted analysis of–"

"Charlie!" Alan cut in, resuming his aborted protest. "I don't think your brother's in any state for that stuff now. That goes for the rest of you."

"Dad, I'm fine."

"No, you're not fine."

"You just said-" Don started to argue, remembering his father's first words to him when he woke.

"I don't care what I said. No more work today." Alan said firmly. He glanced pointedly at the three agents. "Agent Edgerton, David, Colby, I appreciate you getting Don back in one piece but he needs his rest now."

"Okay, Mr Eppes." David answered. He glanced at his watch, unconsciously copying one of Don's habits. "We better get back to it."

"Keep me in the loop, David." Don ordered, ignoring his father's frown. He was going to be back on deck, well enough to ride a desk and direct the investigation anyway, in a couple of days. He needed to be updated with everything as they found it.

"Uh, yeah." David acknowledged with a sideways glance at an unhappy Alan.

"See ya, Don." Colby contributed as he followed his partner to the door.

"Catch you later, Eppes." The sniper added with a quick lift of his coffee.

Don relaxed; Edgerton wasn't scared of his father. He'd be kept up to date. There was work to be done.

"Is it safe to come in yet?" A familiar female voice inquired.

Don's face softened into a smile as Robin walked in. She came to his side and carefully took his hand. He realised he should probably say something. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself."

"Uh, Charlie? I think we need to, uh, we need to," Alan repeated himself and trailed off.

"Go outside?" Charlie finished.

"Go outside. Right." Alan nodded and headed for the door followed by Charlie in a completely transparent attempt to give his son and girlfriend some privacy.

The moment they left Robin bent and kissed Don lightly. "You know, you promised me once you'd keep out of trouble." She reminded him as she pulled back, a gentle smile on her face.

Don remembered. It had been after his second encounter with Nelson. "I said I'd try."

"Try harder."

"Yes, sweetie."

END

_**A/N:**__ All done, thank-you for all the reviews, they are very much appreciated. See you all next time._

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